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JULIAN; 


OB, 


SCENES 


IN JUDEA. 


BY 

•v 

WILLIAM WARE, 

AUTHOR OF “ZBNOBIA,” “aUBBLIAN,” 


BTO. 


TWO VOLUMES IN ONE 


VOL. I 


NEW YORK: 4 
PUBLISHED BY JAMES MILLER, 

(SUCCESSOR TO C. S. FRANCIS <fc CO.) 

647 BROADWAY. 

1874. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in I he year 1842, 

By C. S. Francis, 

Xn the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, 

By MARY WARE, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for th* 

District of Massachusetts. 


NOTE. 


These “Scenes,” it is thought proper to say, are 
purely fictitious, with no foundation whatever in histori- 
cal fact, except where an obvious agreement will be 
found with the Scriptures. Wherever the story devi- 
ates from the straight course of the New Testament 
record, it is to be taken as imaginary — illustrative 
merely of the period chosen. 

For the part assigned to Herod there is a show of 
authority; and it will be found to conflict with the 
conjecture of those who, to meet the difficulty pre- 
sented by Luke, xv. 1, suppose the Tetrarch to have 
been absent from his dominions during all the early 
part of our Saviour’s ministry, engaged in a war with 

the King of Arabia. 

1 * 


NOTE. 


vi 

In respect to Scripture antiquities no more has been 
attempted than not to do them violence. Geographical 
and Topographical details will be found to agree essen- 
tially with the best authorities. 


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JULIAN 


Praise to the God of Abraham. The locusts are 
flown. The land which they found flourishing and ver- 
dant as a garden, they have changed to the barrenness 
of a desert. The cities and the villages, but now so 
full of people, are become the region of desolation and 
death. Even the very city and house of God are level 
with the dust, and the ploughshare has gone over them. 
And here, upon the hill of Olives, I sit, a living witness 
of the ruin. By reason of the wonderful compassions 
of God, which never fail, I am escaped as a bird from 
the net of the fowler. Yet I take little joy in this. 
For why should the days of one like me be lengthened 
out, when the mighty and excellent of the land are cut 
off 'i I rather rejoice in this, that the spoiler is gone ; 
the armies of the alien have ceased to devour; and 
they who are fled, and hidden in caves and dens of 
the rocks, may come forth again to inhabit the land 
and build up the waste places. A multitude, w'hich no 
man could number, have fallen before the edge of the 
sword, or by famine, and the air is full of the pestilen 
tial vapors that steam up from their rotting carcases. 
But a greater multitude remains; and it may well 
Von. I.— 1 


o 


JULIAN, 


be that ere many years have passed, they shall fill the 
land as before, and gathered into one by him who, 
though long delaying, will come, pay back, and more, 
the measure they have received. That time will surely 
come. Even as the Assyrian could not finally destroy, 
but the hand of the Almighty was put forth, and the 
city and the temple grew again from their ruins to 
a greater glory than before, so shall it be now. The 
Roman triumph shall be short. Messiah shall yet 
appear; and Jerusalem clothed in her beautiful gar- 
ments shall sit upon her hills, the joy and crown of the 
whole earth. 

But for me, my eyes shall not behold it. Before 
that day these aged limbs shall rest in the sepulchres 
of Beth-Harem, and these walls will have fallen and 
mingled with the common earth. It is not to-morrow’, 
nor the day after, that the kingdom shall come. Im- 
patient Israel will not wait the appointed hour; she 
will not remember that with the Lord a thousand years 
are as a day, and a day as a thousand years. She will 
reign to-day or never. It is her mad haste has drawn 
upon her this wide destruction. Deceivers, and they 
who have deceived themselves, fools and wicked men, 
have led her to the precipice, down which she hath 
fallen, and now lies, as a potter’s vessel, broken in 
fragments. And I, alas, am not clear in the great 
transgression. The rage which filled the people was in 
my heart also. I too gave heed to lying words, and 
bent my knee before him who, in my darkness, seemed 
to me as in very truth the King of Israel, and bound 
myself to his chariot wheels. May he whose compas- 
sions are infinite, pity and forgive his servant. It is 


JULIAN. 


3 


with my soul low in the dust before him, that I turn 
to the long past, and remember the early errors of my 
life. 

And why will ye of Rome press upon me the un- 
welcome task? My kinsmen might well forego any 
pleasure they may reap, for the pain that will be 
my only harvest. Yet not my only harvest. The 
memory of the days spent where Judith and Onias 
dwelt will bring with it pleasant thoughts, — if many 
bitter and self-reproachful also. Happily, of this por- 
tion of my life, of which you are chiefly desirous to 
hear, the record already exists; from which I need 
but draw in such fragments as shall impart all 
that I may care to reveal. That record lies before 
me just as it went forth from my full heart, and was 
poured into the bosom of that more than woman, 
— my protecting angel, rather, — Naomi the blessed. 
As the scenes of my earlier life rise before me out of 
these leaves, distinct as the outlines of those barren 
hills, so too does the image of my mother come up out 
of the obscurity of the past, and stand before me, clear 
and beautiful to the eye as when clothed in flesh. It 
w r as to thee, thou true mother in Israel, that I made 
myself visible and plain to read as a parchment scroll, 
and from thee in return received those holy counsels, 
charged with a divine wisdom, which were a pillar 
of light to my path; and, had I heeded them, had 
saved me from every error, as they did from more 
than I can now remember or recount. 

Concerning my birth and childhood in Rome, and the 
years which preceded my departure for the East, it 
needs not that I speak; for of that part of my life 


4 


JX71.T AX 


enough is known, and I can take no pleasure in re- 
perusing it. From the letters and other writings trans- 
mitted to me long since by my mother from Rome, I 
now draw what shall give you a somewhat living 
picture of those days in Judea, about which you are 
chiefly desirous to hear. 


JULIAN. 


5 


L 


I thus addressed my mother, soon after reaching 
Caesarea. 

You who know your son so well will not doubt that 
I took my departure from Antioch with pain. Nowhere 
since I passed the gates of Rome have I been entertained 
with such magnificence. Nowhere have the hours proved 
themselves so short-lived. After the dullness of Athens, 
and the worse than dullness of Smyrna, Ephesus, and 
Rhodes, it was refreshing to witness the noise and stir 
of the mistress of the East. So frequent were the thea- 
tres, baths, and porticos, the shows, the games, the com- 
bats of wild beasts, that I felt myself almost in the 
Elysium of my own Rome. What added, too, as you 
. will believe, to my happiness, was this, that I passed 
everywhere for a Roman of undoubted Roman blood ; 
or, at least, if my descent were seen, with a civility 
which seems native to these orientals, the knowledge of 
it was not betrayed by a word or look. I perceive you 
to smile at this, as also to utter a few words expressive 
of a gentle contempt for an unworthy scion of an ancient 
house. The contempt from you I can bear; but the 
smile by which you seem to enjoy what you are pleased 
to term my credulity, I must say and believe is wasted. 
Eor, more than once have I been assured by some of my 
own tribe that, but for a something in my eye, they 
1 * 


G 


JULIAN. 


should suspect me to be other than a Roman. Neither, 
my mother, was this flattery ; it was from some incapa- 
ble of that meanest vice; from my real friends. But 
whoever were so blind as to take me for a Roman, you 
may be assured I was not careful to undeceive them. I 
enjoyed the perfect felicity while I might. And the 
dream was undisturbed during the whole of my sojourn 
there, except in a single instance, when once as I was 
walking in front of the baths of Tiberius, I saw approach- 
ing from an opposite point, the lordly Drusus, who, as 
I gave signs of saluting him, turned his face in another 
direction, and swept along without recognising me. 
What think you of that % at this distance I can see your 
color change. But if you even feel the insult, who live 
s6 shut out from the great world, how much more must 
I who am in it. I think your censure is too sharp dpon 
me, when at such moments I, somewhat hastily perhaps, 
wish the twelve tribes had found the fate of Pharaoh, 
seeing that to little else than scorn and curses, hatred 
and oppression, are they born who come of their lineage. 
Willingly would I renounce all the wisdom I have ever 
found in Moses and the prophets, for a little of that 
equal honor in the eyes of men, which more methinks 
than questions of philosophy or religion concerns a 
man’s well-being. My eye is not far reaching enough 
to discern a single advantage in the position the Jew Alls 
in this great theatre of life. He cherishes in his soul 
his faith, which he holds to be nobler and purer than 
that of Pythagoras or Cicero. But however much nobler 
and purer in his own eye, when did other than a Jew so 
esteem it. Who ever has heard of Romans, Greeks, or 
Egyptians becoming Jews, and receiving — save in 


JULIAN. 


? 


numbers most inconsiderable — -the Jewish faith ? Yet is 
it likely that through so many ages a religion given of 
God should have remained in the world, and not have 
convinced men of its divinity ] I, alas, have not even a 
conviction of its truth to sustain me under this burden 
of contempt and reproach. I am a Jew outwardly, car 
rying the signs of my descent and origin in my face and 
form, branded in by the Hand that made me, and by the 
hand that reared me, and this I cannot help. But with 
readiness would I lose one half my limbs, if from what 
remained these scars and seams of ignominy were fairly 
erased. You say that in Rome I mix freely with the 
Roman youth, that I sit at their tables and they at mine, 
that I join them at the games, and in every amusement 
of our city life. It is true; yet still I am a Jew. I 
am beloved of .many because I am Julian; yet by the 
very same am I abhorred because I am a Jew. The 
Roman beggar who takes my gold — for gold is gold, ■«— r 
begs pardon of the gods, and as he turns the corner 
scours the coin upon the sand. Yet, my mother, I see 
not why one people should thus proscribe another ; nor 
do I look upon the wrong but with indignation. You 
justly accuse me with indifference to the religion of my 
fathers. But I have never beheld with patience the 
slights, insults, and oppressions which, by the stronger, 
have been heaped upon the weaker ; nor, truly, when I 
reflect, can I see why the worship of a people should be 
charged upon them as a crime. It is these injuries 
which have roused within me, at times, the J ew — how- 
ever for the most part in my search after pleasure, I 
have been too ready to forget all but what ministered 
directly to that end. If thou art filled with wonder at 


fl 


JULTAN. 


so serious a vein in me, I will soon give thee the reasons 
thereof; but let me first speak of my passage hither, 
and of that which happened immediately on my arrival. 

I left Antioch, as I have said, with regret. At the 
mouth of the Orontes f embarked in a trader, bound to 
Caesarea, and then to Joppa and Alexandria. We at 
first were driven out to sea by an east wind, and ran 
quite along the shores of Cyprus ; but this soon sub- 
siding, we crossed over again to the Syrian coast, and 
were afterwards enabled to keep our vessel so near, — 
the breezes being gentle and from a safe quarter, — that 
I enjoyed a continued prospect of the country, with as 
much distinctness and satisfaction, methinks, as if I 
had been travelling by land ; at least with distinctness 
enough, for every pleasure of this sort is increased by 
a certain degree of obscurity and dimness. Painters 
understand this, and over their works throw a sort of 
haze by some mysterious process of their divine art, 
which imparts to them their principal charm. No pros- 
pect and no picture is beautiful which is clear and sharp 
as if cut in metal. Truth itself is to me improved by a 
veil of this same mistiness thrown around it. But if 
any fault is to be found with this Syrian atmosphere, it 
is that of this all-involving dimness there is something 
too much, to that degree, indeed, that the eye is often 
cheated of the distant features of the landscape, — the 
mountains which, drawn upon the chart before us, we 
know to be not far distant, not too far for the eye to 
reach with ease, being cut off entirely by this purple 
wall of partition. Happily, as we drew near the port 
of Berytus, beyond which lay the mountains of the Li- 
banus and Anti-Libanus, there w as not so much of the 


-tJLIAN. 


0 


quality of which I speak in the air, as to deprh e us of a 
view' of their summits, crowned with their snowy caps, 
filling the w r hole eastern horizon. It w r as a magnificent 
mountain scene, a fitting vestibule, you will say, my 
mother, through which to enter the holy land of Moses 
and Abraham. It was, I am obliged to confess, with 
emotions such as I have never experienced before, that 
I found myself now' for the first time gazing upon the 
shores of this wonderful people, the home of my fathers. 
It w*as beautiful to the eye, as w r e skirted the coast, as 
one long continued garden. The rich agriculture of the 
husbandman w'as pushed out to the very sands of the 
sea-beach, and every cape, and promontory, ipid lofty 
peak, show'ed, sparkling in the sun, the white walls of a 
village or some insulated dwelling, proving how' thickly 
peopled must be the country, w'hich could spare its in- 
habitants for the cultivation of spots naturally barren 
and inhospitable, but now by the hand of industry 
changed to a soil not less fertile than that of Italy. I 
could not but wish that, if it were decreed I must be a 
Jew, I had been born and had lived in these sunny re- 
gions ; and in truth, that it had pleased heaven to have 
retained my parents on their native soil, seeing that 
there, among our own hills and plains, w'e could not but 
have been a people more respected than we now are, or 
ever can be, wandering over the earth, forcing ourselves 
upon every nation and every city, unwelcome guests,— 
among them but never of them. 

We had not long lost sight of the ridges of Lebanon, 
"when w'e passed successively those ancient seats of opu- 
lence and renown, Sidon and Tyre; then doubling a 
lofty cape, formed by a part of Mount Carmel shooting 


10 


.7ULTATC. 


into the sea, a few nours' sail revealed a distant pros- 
pect of Caesarea. As we drew near, I was astonished at 
the magnificence of the port. It is a harbor of an im- 
mense capacity as to vessels of all kinds and sizes, yet 
has it been formed wholly by the hand of art. The 
shore presents at this part of the coast an almost even 
line of sandy banks running from south to north, with 
none of those alternate projections and inlets which are 
proper for the security of ships against both the current 
of the sea and storms of wind. Wherefore, at the cost 
of an immense sum, did Herod the Great construct this 
artificial basin, — larger than the famous one at Athens, 
— wherein vessels can ride in perfect safety, protected 
especially against the violence Of the southern gales, 
which in this region are chiefly to be feared. The 
water is enclosed by a mole in the shape of a half moon, 
which, bending round from the south, presents its open 
mouth to the north, whose gentle winds allow vessels at 
all times to obtain an entrance. This mole, wholly of 
marble, and of enormous proportions, offers to the eye 
on the outer side a continuous range of edifices, also of 
marble, which seemed to me palaces as I approached at 
a distance, but are designed for the reception of mer 
chandise ; while on the inner side, for its entire length, 
it affords a broad and spacious pavement, where the 
ships are lightened of their burdens, and, lashed to iron 
rings or pillars, ride securely till their cargoes for 
another voyage have been received. At the entrance 
of the harbor, and at the very extremity of the mole, 
there rises a lofty tower, upon the summit of which you 
behold a Colossus of Asia, while on the opposite side of 
the entrance, upon a similar tower which terminates the 


JULIAN. 




shorter arm of the mole, stands a Colossus of Rome, of 
the like huge proportions. Towers of the same height 
and size shoot up along the whole length of this vast 
wall, intended partly as an additional feature of magnifi- 
cence, and partly as a defence against the assaults of an 
enemy. From the inner shore of this wide basin, — 
which for vastness seems a lake, — rises by a gradual 
ascent the city, the streets which lead from the water 
being crossed at regular intervals by others of the same 
width, which run in an opposite direction. 

As our vessel, — its decks thronged with passengers,— 
floated, driven by a gentle northern breeze, within the 
embrace of this spacious haven, and the crowd of ship- 
ping, the long range of lofty towers, the city with its 
palaces, temples, and theatres, all opened at once to my 
view, I thought I had never seen anything of a more 
impressive grandeur. I could with difficulty persuade 
myself that this was a city of J udea ; that, where I had 
expected to behold a barbarous and uncultivated people, 
I should thus meet instead, all the signs of elegance and 
taste which had marked the cities of Greece and Syria, 
or are to be observed in the chief towns of Italy. I 
remembered, indeed, the magnificence and boundless 
wealth of Herod, but I do not think, my mother, that 
even you yourself are aware of the greatness of his 
achievements, not only here in Caesarea, but, as I have 
heard, in many other of the cities of Judea. From some 
of my own nation, who have been fellow-passengers, 
and with whom I have enjoyed much pleasant inter- 
course, I learned this ; and in addition, more of the 
present condition and recent history of the country, than 
I could have obtained from any sources whatsoever in 


12 


JULIAN. 


Rome. Of these things I shall impart what knowledge 
I have gathered at my future leisure. Let me, at pres- 
ent, return to our arrival. 

We thus floated into this beautiful harbor, making our 
way slowly along amongst vessels of all nations, which 
like ourselves were coming in, or departing or riding 
securely at their anchors. The noise and confusion were 
scarcely less than in the Tiber. I enjoyed the scene 
greatly, as I do everywhere whatever leads to uproar 
and contention. Particularly was I delighted with the 
quarrels which arose among the sailors, when the vessels 
either could not easily pass each other, or became en- 
tangled, when it frequently came to blows, and more or 
fewer were overset into the water. If they who were 
thus thrust overboard did not readily recover themselves 
by clinging to the sides of the vessel, or laying hold 
upon some rope, the combatants then ceased till the 
drowning men were drawn up again. Yet are many 
daily lost in these rude encounters, and I myself saw 
blows given and taken, which seemed to me more than 
enough to demolish the head on which they fell. But 
when the governor of a people is full of quarrel, and 
violence, and injustice, how can anything better be ex- 
pected from the very lowest of the populace! As I 
stood watching what was thus going on about me, I was 
surprised to find ourselves suddenly brought up against 
a vessel, which, from the bellowings that proceeded from 
it, I perceived to be crowded with wild beasts, and indeed 
the deck was covered with their cages. As I expressed 
to one who stood by me, and with whom 1 had had fre- 
quent intercourse during the voyage, my wonder to see 
such a cargo making its way into a port of J udea, where 


JULIAN. 


IS 


the customs and religion of the people differ so widely 
from those of Rome and other heathen cities, he replied, 
that they who knew anything of the manner in which 
Judea had been governed by Herod and after him by 
the Ethnarch, would see, in what had occasioned sur- 
prise to me, nothing but what agreed exactly with the 
now altered character of the population. I answered, 
that I was obliged to confess great ignorance of all that 
related to the J ews, as I was Roman born, and my read- 
ing and studies had lain in a quite different direction. 

At this flourish, which I had hoped should pass with 
him, he quickjy rejoined, “ You may be Roman born, 
but, if so, your Hebrew blood wears well, for the Jew 
looks out at your eyes as plainly as the Roman out of 
your cloak and your speech. Never hope to play Ro- 
man with those eyes in your head.” 

I was somewhflt taken down, as you may suppose, by 
this ; but I put the best face upon the matter, and said 
that I could not but acknowledge that, although I had 
been born in Rome, my parents had removed thither 
from the upper part of Judea. My education had, how- 
ever, been so completely Roman, owing to my father’s 
early abandonment of all outward observance of his 
faith, that it was strictly true, as I had stated, that my 
ignorance was great of all that related to the present 
condition and late history of the country of my ances- 
tors. 

“ The more the pity,” replied my companion, “ that a 
son of Abraham should be found to deny his country 
and his ancestry, and make a boast of what should be 
his shame, that he knows nothing of the people from 
whom he sprung. It is to such traitors” — and his dark 
Vol. I. — 2 


14 


JULIAN. 


eyes sparkled like a living coal, — “ that J udea owes her 
slavery and her apostacy, — her slavery to a foreign 
yoke, and her apostacy from the faith and the customs 
of the early days of our history. The people are no 
longer Jews, but Iierodians, Greeks, Romans, anything, 
— anything but Jews. Is this a city of Jews we arc 
entering? It stands on the soil of Judea, but it belongs 
not to the rightful occupants of the soil. Caesarea is 
first Greek, then Roman, last and least Jewish. But — 
a word in your ear — the Jews that are there are of the 
true stuff. They are zealous for the law and for liberty. 
A little thing would rouse them to the defence of either 
or both. 

As he said this, our further conversation was suddenly 
interrupted by our vessel coming into violent contact 
with that containing the cargo of wild animals, which 
caused them to utter their savage cries ’with terrific up- 
roar ; and to this was added the oaths and shouts of the 
sailors and the pilots, each laying upon the other the 
fault of the encounter, and all preparing to go from 
•words to blows. This issue was, however, happily 
avoided, and the vessels being soon free of each other, 
we proceeded on our way. 

“ These animals,” then resumed the Jew, “ about which 
you wondered that they should be here, are destined to 
the games instituted by Herod in commemoration of 
the building of Caesarea, and which return every fifth 
year. On the third day from this they commence ; and 
if you are a stranger in this part of the world, and would 
observe the customs of a new people, you will be well 
repaid for the delay by remaining and witnessing 
them.” 


15 


\ 


JULIA!*. 

I said “ that I should certainly do so ; that I was 
abroad for the single purpose of seeing the people of va- 
rious regions, and obtaining such knowledge as might in 
this way be gathered without much expense of labor or 
thought; that although, as he had seen, I was no Jew, 
except in the misfortune of having descended from that 
tribe, I was yet especially desirous of dwelling a while 
among them, as, if not a polite or powerful nation, they 
certainly were a remarkable one, and well merited the 
observation of a curious traveller.” 

A mingled look of scorn and rage was the only 
response I received at first for this speech. He paced 
the deck of the vessel a few moments, and I supposed 
would not deign to hold further communication with 
me. He, however, soon returned to my side, having 
swallowed his indignation. 

“ Young man,” said he, “ I forgive the levity of your 
speech, for the reason that I well deserved it for persuad- 
ing you to be present at heathen sports on a Jewish soil. 
But in truth they have been now so long celebrated, that 
they have become a part of the life of the people, and it 
is only a few of the stricter sort who condemn them or 
keep back from them. It had agreed better with my 
real opinions, however, had I denounced them as I should 
have done, and warned thee against them. But you will 
use in this your liberty. I now wish to say that, in spite 
of your enmity toward your own people, I have conceived 
a regard for you, and while you shall sojourn at Caesarea, 
offer you my house and home ; and once beneath the roof 
of a true son of Abraham, I will not doubt that your long- 
cherished affection for the land of your fathers may be 
revived, and that we may send you home a Jew in 


10 


JULIAN. 


nature as — forgive me — you are in outward S'-m 
blance.” 

“Were it only for an apprehension of such lamenta- 
ble issue,” I rejoined, “ l should feel compelled to decline 
your hospitable request May I never be more of that of 
which I am already too much. But beside this, I am 
bound in obedience to the wishes of my mother, to seek 
out the dwelling of the widow of Sameas, the v ine mer 
chant, w'ith whom it is my purpose to abide, if indeed 
she yet lives and can receive me, for it is very many 
years since we have heard of her welfare, and know not 
whether she be even an inhabitant of Caesarea.” 

To this the stranger replied with vivacity, “ The widow 
of Sameas ! Ah, the Lord be thanked for directing your 
course to that haven. She is a true mother in Israel. 
She still lives and dwells in Caesarea, and is of good es- 
tate. Sameas was no idler ; and when he died, his 
widow' and children inherited the fruits of his industry ; 
and but for the unjust exactions of Pilate, their wealth 
had been second to that of few within the walls. As it 
is, they enjoy competence and more. But the dearest 
wealth of the house is the zeal for the law and the rights 
of J udea which fires the souls of Philip and Anna, the son 
and daughter of the Merchant. The best I can wish 
thee, therefore, my young Roman, is that thou mayest 
dwell a space in the house of Sameas, for if there be but 
a drop of Jewish blood in thy body, I fear not but their 
ardor will so warm and swell it, that it shall fill all thy 
veins.” 

We were now separated, the vessel having reached 
the spot where she was to be secured, an 1 the passengers 
making ready to depart. The Jew, my companion, took 


JULIAN 


17 


leave of me, after first directing me in such a manner 
that I could not fail to find the dwelling of the widow of 
the wine merchant. It was with little satisfaction that I 
looked forward to a residence with a family of Jewish 
zealots. It was enough, I thought, that I had borne so 
long, and with such patience, the reproaches of my own 
mother, quite enough that, in addition, I had just been 
exposed to the vituperations of a fanatic, from whom I 
had happily escaped alive, without being now for many 
days, how many I could not know, but for many days 
shut up, without the possibility of escape, in the very 
hot-bed of J udaism. What a fate for me ! I had almost 
resolved to take ship, without so much as landing, 
for Alexandria, when the image of your sorrowful and 
rebuking countenance, my mother, presented itself before 
me, and I turned dutifully toward the quarter of the city 
where dwelt the merchant. To reach it I must pass 
through the central parts of the city, to where it first 
joins the country. The place I sought I easily found; 
for Caesarea, dear mother, although the capital of Judea, 
is not so large as Rome. And moreover as I passed 
along, I could not but judge that it would scarce be so en- 
during, seeing that, though presenting everywhere the 
marks of newness, it presents also everywhere the signs 
of premature decay. A city built in a day is very 
likely to last but a day. And all around, are Herod’s 
piles of building, whether in the form of theatre, temple, 
market-place, or quay, already perceived to yield to the 
effects of time. Even the palace of the Governor, 
which crewhile was the residence of Ilerod himself, is, 
in parts of it, ruinous through the falling asunder of the 
ill-cemented masonry. Pilate could hardly trust to his 
2* b 


18 


JtJLIAN. 


walls to defend him against any rising of the citizens. 
But he is in little danger at any time, as I think, consid- 
ering what the population of the city is, notwithstand- 
ing the enmity of the Jewish portion of the inhabitants. 

The dwelling of Sameas, after traversing the whole 
breadth of the city, I at length reached. A beggar is- 
suing from a gateway, laden with the proofs of the 
benevolence to which he had successfully appealed, was 
the only person of whom I could inquire which of the 
dwellings near me was that of the widow of the wine 
merchant. He answered, pointing to his sack of com- 
modities which he was bearing away : 

“ From whom but the widow of Sameas do the poor 
of Caesarea depart laden in this fashion ? Pass yonder 
threshold, and thou shalt find thyself in Paradise.” 

So saying, and waving his arm with dignity, he 
turned away to count over his stolen treasures. The 
kindhearted we always approach with confidence, so 
that with a quicker pace I passed the gateway, and en 
tered a spacious garden, in the centre of which, almost 
buried beneath overhanging foliage and flowers of every 
variety of form and hue, stood the dwelling of the wine 
merchant. A slave now immediately approached, say- 
ing he would conduct me to that part of the house where 
I should see those for whom I sought. As he led me 
on, and I observed the great beauty of the spot, and the 
many tokens of wealth and refinement in the garden and 
in the dwelling, the forms and proportions of which 
were now distinctly to be seen through the opening 
trees, I found myself growing to a more complacent 
humor, and better disposed than when I left the vessel 
to greet with some appearance of warmth the widow of 


JULIAN. 


19 


the virtuous Sameas. It is true, I saw statue neither of 
god or goddess, nor vase of marble curiously wrought 
with nymphs and fawns, and young, dancing, half-drunk 
Bacchuses ; nor did the imperial forms of Augustus and 
Tiberius greet my eye, as they do everywhere in street, 
and garden, market-place, and shop, in Rome. So that 
from art much was wanting to give the truest grace to 
the picture before me ; but nature seemed to have made 
good all defect of this sort by her superior charms ; and 
I was made soon to forget what at first struck me as a 
want, by the novelty, and surpassing richness, and va- 
riety, of plants, trees, and shrubs, both native and 
foreign, which met my eye. I lingered to admire, and 
would at that moment rather have remained among the 
beauties of nature, than have gone farther to encounter 
the living beauties of these half- barbarian regions ; but 
I was civilly urged on by the attending slave, and so in 
a few moments ushered into the presence of the widow 
and her daughter. 

They were seated in a large and lofty portico, whose 
arches, overhung with flow r ers, opened immediately into 
the garden, while here and there, as the trees permitted, 
w r ere seen gleaming through the light blue w'aters of the 
Mediterranean. The mother was occupied in some 
labor of the needle, adjusting or repairing what seemed 
to me some military garment — the daughter in arrang- 
ing in groups, apparently to please her own eye, some 
flowers which lay spread in rich profusion upon a 
marble table. I may suppose that I w'as taken to bo 
some new applicant for the alms of the rich and bene- 
volent w idow', as the daughter, to my vexation, did not 
raise her head at my approach, and the mother did but 


20 


JULIAN. 


rise, and move toward me with a stately step, yet, I 
must add, with an expression of gentleness in the coun 
tenance. 

'When I had finished my introductory narrative, ana 
had declaimed of yourself and myself, and of the whole 
tribe of Alexanders, from those of Beth-Harem to those 
of Rome, I was one by one greeted with many smiles 
of welcome, and before I had ended was seated between 
the mother and daughter, both apparently pleased to 
entertain a stranger from Rome, but still more, per- 
haps, one of our ancient and honorable house. The 
daughter, as I had spoken, turned and looked upon me, 
and at first I thought I had never seen anything quite 
so dark and forbidding as her countenance ; but when, 
as I proceeded, it came to be lighted up with emotion 
and with smiles, it at length put on a more agreeable 
aspect, though still so dark an olive I thought I had 
never seen upon the skin, nor eyes so large and black 
set in the human head. Among all who have thronged 
your house from Judea, my mother, one so extremely 
Jewish as this young Israelite was never seen there. 

When I had further satisfied the widow concerning 

O 

yourself, giving her so minute an account of your life 
and character, that I fear some part at least must have 
been invention rather than fact, and then had replied to 
all the questions which were put to me — w ith a real in- 
terest in public affairs — concerning Tiberius and the 
present power of Sejanus, the mother said, that she had 
hoped the provinces w r ould be more fortunate than the 
capital ; and indeed had hardly thought it possible that, 
while there was one like Tiberius in Rome, another like 
Pilate could have been found for Judea; but — lately 




JULIAN. 21 

especially — it was only too plain that we were to be the 
victims of a tyrannic power hardly less than they of 
Rome. 

1 replied, “ that where the head of a great empire was 
such a one as Tiberius, it was a natural consequence that 
all in society like him should float upon the surface. 
They would crawl forth from the hiding places of their 
vices, and grow' great in the sunshine of their mighty 
example and patron. Men like your governor are com- 
mon enough now in Rome, though not always are they 
fortunate enough to rise into place. For though the 
Emperor himself chooses to play the tyrant, he is not 
so ready as one might suppose to multiply himself in 
his subordinates.” 

“ Is it not singular, then,” said Anna, “ that he persists 
in retaining Pilate in his office, notwithstanding his 
cruelties, and the enmity of the people ?” 

“ He may do that,” I answ'ered, “ in agreement with 
a sentiment he has been heard to utter, that to change a 
cruel or rapacious governor of a province, is but to send 
a new' and hungry robber to take the place of one who 
has already gorged himself, and is likely to rest and 
sleep, as it is the nature of ail animal to do w’hen he has 
filled himself; just as the poor w'retch covered with 
sores begged that the flies already feeding might not be 
driven away, since it w'ould only make room for a 
hungrier swarm.” 

“That,” said the young Jewess, “ is indeed the senti- 
ment of a heartless tyrant — of one who is not only in- 
different to the misery ho occasions, but can make a 
jest of it. If Rome bears patiently with the greater 
monster, I trust that Judea will not with the lesser.” 


22 


JULIAN. 


“Take heed, my daughter,” said the widow, “how 
your righteous indignation finds too loud and warm an 
expression. There is some truth in the saying of Tibe- 
rius. We may drive away Pilate only to be cursed with 
a worse man.” 

“ That were impossible,” cried the daughter. 

“ Were you ever in Rome?” said I. 

“ No,” replied the young girl. 

“ I thought as much. Believe me, there are worse 
men in Rome than Pilate. I know those in the city — 
men, too, of note — who, were they here, would put to 
open shame the deeds of your present governor. Tibe- 
rius has proved already a rare schoolmaster. His pu- 
pils abound in the capital and throughout Italy.” 

“ And Caprcse is just at present the schoolroom,” said 
Anna. 

“ Yes, and too small for the scholars who crowd it. 
But, if you can pardon my ignorance, of what have you 
to complain here in Caesarea ? I have noticed on my 
arrival, and as I passed through your city, only signs of 
prosperity and peace ; nor since I left Rome, nor indeed 
before for a long time, have I heard anything of evils 
which you are suffering under.” 

“ Ah,” said Anna, with animation, “ I know how it is 
with you Roman Jews. You grow to be so in love with 
the greatness of your adopted country, that you are 
soon strangely forgetful of that from which you sprang. 
The wrongs and sufferings of Judea, which cry to 
Heaven, are not heard in the din of great events and the 
whirl of pleasure. Many of you, so am I told, deny 
your name and country, and put on the dress and take 
the name of Roman. Pray Heaven it is not so with 


JULIAN. 


23 


you, for your face is honest, and—” In hei earnestness 
she suddenly paused, and her dark skin was covered with 
blushes that made her for the moment beautiful. Her 
eye fell upon my Roman dress, and she perceived that 
she had involved me in the condemnation she had pro- 
nounced. 

Almost enjoying her confusion, I said, “ I confess my 
recreancy. But you will judge me with more lenity, I 
am sure, when I tell you how odious a thing it is to 
bear the name of J ew in Rome. W ere one born a full 
grown man, he might, perhaps, find philosophy enough 
to steel him against the taunts and gibes of those about 
him. But with only the tender sensibilities of a child 
— it is quite too hard a yoke to bear. Roman boys 
taught me early to both hate and despise the religion 
of my fathers, which, as all the treatment I received on 
every side, and all the language I heard assured me, 
would procure for me nothing better than contempt; and 
insult. My father, too, had renounced all of Judaism 
that he could. He never entered a synagogue ; he ob- 
served none of the Jewish rites or festivals; his phrases 
-were set to Roman measures ; and his outward homage 
was paid with scrupulousness to pagan institutions, 
though that he despised them in his heart as much as he 
hated his own belief, I do not doubt. Gold, gold was 
his only God ; and he cared not for man, but as he 
might help or hinder him in that only worship of his 
heart. Do not, my friends, accuse me of filial impiety 
for these sentiments. For a parent who provided for 
me only gold, and whose only legacy was gold, I can 
feel no very lively emotions of gratitude. I received 
from him none of the signs of a parent’s love. He 


24 


JULIAN. 


hardly knew me. As he moved in the morning to the 
narrow vault in Rome’s vast centre, where he amassed 
his riches, with his eyes looking inwards upon some 
new scheme of wealth, blind and deaf to all beside and 
without him, he would pass me in the street as a 
stranger, though his eyes fell directly on me ; and if I 
made some childish advances, which I soon learned not 
to do, a frown and a rebuke for a troublesome vagrant 
that I was, was all I ever received. As I grew into 
years I drew no nearer to him, nor he to me. Whatever 
was needful to my education in all the wisdom of the 
Romans or the Greeks, was bountifully supplied ; nor 
was I denied that, whatever it might be, which wealth 
could procure, which was thought necessary to place 
me on a level with the young men of the capital in any 
pursuit or pleasure. But to. my father’s counsels or 
business I was never admitted. Of a single thought of 
his mind, or anxiety of his heart, I was never permitted 
to be a sharer. Here I was an annoyance and a hin- 
drance. IIow can you wonder, then, I added, that I 
grew up not a Jew but a Roman] or how can you 
greatly blame me]” You, my mother, will not, I am 
sure, condemn me for this freedom. You, more than I, 
know how to justify it. But when I had said these 
things, I then drew another picture of my other parent, 
and showed how all your endeavors in an opposite 
direction could not but fail, with all Rome and my 
father against you. 

As I paused, the widow of Sameas said, “ It is not 
strange, such being your nurture, that Rome rather 
than Judea should possess your heart; nor that you 
should be ignorant of the condition of what to you must 


J ULIAtf. 


25 


ever have been a place so obscure or unknown as 
Caesarea. Let us hope that being now here, a witness 
as you will be of our frequent oppressions and insults, 
the love of Judea, which, sure I am, you drew in with 
your mother’s milk, will revive and unite you to her 
interests. Not that I am an advocate for open resist- 
ance. That as I deem were madness itself. We can 
never oppose Rome but we must be crushed. I mean 
only that by a -wise and manly perseverance in an as- 
sertion of our just rights, both before the governor and 
the Emperor at Rome, we may at length perhaps obtain 
some redress, and the removal of some burdens, which 
■weigh upon us with a ^weight too heavy to be borne.” 

“ But your numbers,” I said, “ must be so great, 
I should judge as a stranger, as to be a sufficient protec 
tion against lawless violence or rapacity on the part of 
the Roman governor. With a military force not more 
numerous than his, he must be weaker than the united 
populace. 

“Ah,” replied Anna, “there is the evil we suffer 
under. We are not united. Even among ourselves 
there are those who judge very differently of the 
measures wo ought to pursue; some are for giving 
blow for blow, while others counsel moderation and 
forbearance. And then, do you not know it ? the 
greater part of our population is Greek, and the Greek 
is an enemy more bitter than even the Roman. Quar- 
rels continually arise, and blood is often shed. The 
streets of Ciesarea have I seen more than once, young 
as I am, to run with the blood of those who have 
perished in these wild combats, the Greeks always 
in league ■with the Romans. Even now — but see, here 


20 


JULIAN. 


comes Philip, and with ill news too, if his face may be 
read.” 

The young man, her brother, entered with haste as 
Anna spoke, his countenance expressive of anything but 
agreeable intelligence. He w'as above the common 
height, of a proud and lofty air, and a very athlete 
in his firm and well knit joints and massy limbs ; while 
his countenance, dark and lowering, made you think 
him one designed by nature for scenes of strife and 
war, or even for deeds of private violence and revenge. 
He saluted me as his mother made me known to him, 
with a look and manner which declared that he at once 
comprehended me. He immediately addressed himself 
with vehemence to his mother and sister. 

“ Our suit has been rejected, and the Greeks have 
triumphed. ’Tis as I said it would be. A new insult 
is heaped upon us, and our ears are again to ring with 
the hisses and laughter of the city. Our warnings, our 
appeals, our entreaties, for we even entreated, availed 
nothing to change his stubborn will. He sat on his 
tribunal white as marble, hard as marble, cold as 
marble. May God do so to me, and more also, — ” 

“Nay, nay, Philip, my son, curse not,” said his 
mother. “ To bear is a virtue and a duty, as well as to 
act. Be not enslaved to your passions. Another day 
and Pilate may be in a better mood. He is not always 
thus.” 

“ Mother, mother,” cried the young man, “ if we bear 
more or longer, we shall deserve to bear forever ; if we 
yield now, were I a Roman, I would no longer deign to 
use a Jew for my footstool, — I would not spit upon 


JULIAN. 


21 


him. Nor will we yield. So says Eleazer, and so says 
Simon.” 

“ W ere they with you at your audience ?” 

“ They were ; and from a prophet’s lips there never 
came forth more moving words than from those of the 
holy Simon. Yet upon the pillars of the Hall they fell 
as persuasively as on the cars of Pilate. His icy front 
never once warmed or relaxed, or not till he uttered 
his decree, and the base rabble, set on by Lycias and 
Philaeus, laughed and shouted as we turned away. 
How, my mother, would you have liked to be there ?” 

The mother made no reply ; but tears fell from her 
eyes. The face of the daughter burned with the sense 
of indignity and wounded pride. Philip, chafed by his 
own hot and hasty temper, rose, and withdrew’ into the 
garden. I followed him. Had I been easy of defeat, 1 
should instantly have been repelled by the manner 
which he assumed, as he perceived that I was near him. 
But, as I had my own purposes to answer, I heeded him 
little. I joined him in his walk, and soon succeeded in 
convincing him that, in seeking his conversation, I had 
some end before me of more dignity than the mere grati- 
fication of an idle curiosity, or the passing away of a 
few idle moments. I gave him an account of myself, 
and of our family, and in return solicited such informa- 
tion as he was willing to impart concerning the present 
condition of the city, and especially of its Jewish inhabit- 
ants, in whom I could not but feel a deep interest. 

“ I know not,” he said, with bitterness, “ what interest 
a Roman can take in the Jews of Caesarea.” I an- 
swered, “ that, perhaps, I was not so much a Roman as 
at first appearance he might think me ; that it was true 


23 


JULIAN. 


I hud been almost taught from my infancy to despise 
my own origin, and I had indeed consorted chiefly with 
Romans, but that, notwithstanding the devotion I had 
manifested for everything Roman, there was still a feel- 
ing within that clung with a secret fondness to the land 
and the stock from which I had come, and which had 
shown itself with a new' force since I found myself on 
the shores of Judea, but especially since I had been 
beneath his roof, and had heard what I had.” He took 
this very coolly, and seeming to regard what I had said 
as words of civility, rather than anything more serious, 
he replied, “ that I was too lately in the country to be 
able to join myself with intelligence to one party or 
another of the inhabitants ; that, if it had been my habit 
for so many years to look upon the Jew with the eye 
of a Roman, to wear the Roman garb, and use the 
Roman tongue, and receive a Roman’s homage, it was 
little likely my feeling of regard for the Jew in these 
remote outposts would be a very lasting one, seeing to 
how much greater danger he is exposed here than in 
Rome; nor was it to be much wondered at that it 
should be so with me.” I answered, “ that I w r as sure 
my interest was, as far as it went, a sincere one ; and if 
it had become a stronger one just in proportion to my 
better knowledge of my countrymen, and of their state, 
it was probable, that as I knew more, this sentiment 
would go on to increase in strength ; and l was obliged 
to acknowledge that I was even to the piesent moment 
extremely ignorant of the true circumstances of the 
Jewish people. What,” I asked, “is the present diffi- 
culty here in Caesarea? A particular instance of injury 
on one side and of oppression on the other, if you wflll 


JULIAN. 


*29 


give nje its history, will pour more light and truth into 
my mind than can come from any other source.” He 
then, with something more of regard in his manner, in- 
vited me to follow him to a more remote part of the 
garden, where the ground rising to a gentle eminence, 
and crowned with a small building, which served as a 
protection from the rays of the sun, gave to those who 
sat within a prospect of the whole extent of Caesarea, 
together with the harbor, and the Mediterranean beyond. 
Here we seated ourselves, and Philip gave me the infor- 
mation for which I had asked. 

“ The present hostility of one part of our city toward 
the other,” he said, “is nothing new to those who dwell 
here, nor does it spring from anything new in the circum- 
stances in which you find us. We owe not all, but the 
worst evils of our condition, to Herod tne Great. For, 
when he had determined, among other magnificent pro- 
jects, to found on this spot a city in honor of Caesar, in- 
stead, — as would better have become him, — of filling 
it with the people over whom he was set as king, he 
called hither a colony of Greeks, making out of them, 
and those w r ho came from Rome and other parts of 
Italy, what was in truth a Pagan city. Everywhere 
throughout our land, even in Jerusalem itself, had he 
used every endeavor, and every subtle art to change the 
institutions of our nation, or secretly undermine them 
by the grafting upon them of heathen usages. Theatres, 
amphitheatres, and games, the combats of gladiators and 
of wild beasts, were to be witnessed in all our consider- 
able cities, and even within the precincts of Jerusalem 
itself. The people were not without an affection for the 
customs he thus brought in, and, even as in the days of 
3 * 


JULIAN. 


SO 

Moses and the prophets they were prone to idolatry, so 
now were they prompt to worship the new idols set up 
before them by the great king. They were weary of the 
distinctions of both belief and custom, which separated 
them from the rest of the world, which especially built 
up a wall of partition between them and the refined and 
polite nations, the Romans and the Greeks. A large 
proportion of the people, therefore, entered with zeal 
into all the projects of Herod, which went to make our 
nation agree, as far as possible, wdth the other nations 
of the world. Here, in Caesarea, he designed even that 
the people should be wholly Greek, if not in descent, at 
least in language and manners. Hebrews were not, in- 
deed, by the laws of the place, excluded, but none were 
encouraged to dwell here, but such as were willing to 
call themselves Herodians. And what more or better 
was to be looked for from a base peasant of Ascalon ? 
But, as you may believe, when the walls of the city 
were once up, and the port had been enclosed from the 
sea, and inhabitants began to pour in from every part 
of the world, the Jew also, — not the Herodian, but the 
Jew as well — was not blind to the advantages which 
presented themselves here to his industry, nor slow to 
seize upon them. Large numbers of such as were zeal- 
ous for the law accordingly flocked hither from all parts 
of Judea, and especially from Jerusalem, and here pur- 
sued their craft, and here built their synagogues. But 
they were looked upon with an evil eye, — even as they 
are in Rome or Alexandria, — and quarrels, in no long 
time, broke out, and served to increase the general 
hatred, in which Greeks held the Jews, and the Jews the 
Greeks. This spirit of hate we have inherited from our 


JULIAN. 


31 


parents ; and fresh instances of indignity, on the part of 
the Greeks, have served to inflame it, and impart a ten- 
fold bitterness. It has never died away; and when 
there has been an apparent peace, the same amount of 
angry passion has been running beneath, ready at any 
moment to break forth. What has within a few days 
happened, to enrage so our people, you may deem a 
slight and insufficient cause ; but so thinks not the true 
and loyal Jew. He would die rather than renounce his 
ancient rights. Listen a moment longer. No sooner 
was Caesarea filled in part by Jews zealous of the law, 
than, in agreement with their customs, they erected syna- 
gogues for their worship, and in process of years have 
multiplied themselves in every part of the city. Now 
it has happened, some of our tribe having been among 
the earliest inhabitants of Caesarea, that they came to be 
possessors of lands and houses, which then, indeed, were 
at the very outer limits of the city, but now, by rea- 
son of its growth, make its very centre. And our chief 
synagogue, so Providence has willed, stands, as you may 
have seen, not far from the palace of Herod, upon a 
rising ground, where it is seen of all who come in or go 
out, and has long been, for that reason, an occasion of 
envy to the Greeks. After many fruitless endeavors to 
deprive us of it, they have devised a new plan, which, 
because it is made to be a sign of their devotion to 
Caesar, Pilate will not oppose, although pursuaded that 
not devotion to Caesar, but malignity and envy toward 
the Jews have moved them. They have declared their 
purpose to erect a colossus to Tiberius, and beg of 
Pilate the very spot where stands the temple of our 
worship, which, they require, shall be levelled with the 


JULIAN. 


ground, that the image of a man and a monster, yet 
whom they will by and by call a god, may stand upon 
its ruins. Sooner may the great sea rise and sweep, 
not Caesarea only, but Judea, from the face of the earth, 
than such a deed be done, while a Jew lives to ward it 
off ; that were a judgment of God, and we would meet 
with open arms the rushing flood ; this, but the wrath 
of wicked men, and, as before against the hosts of Moab, 
so must we now rise up as one man against the hosts of 
Home. This is the condition of Caesarea, and such the 
posture of our affairs. It offers little to interest a stran- 
ger, least of all a Roman.” 

I told him in reply, “ that it was not-a thing to choose 
with me, whether I should take part with the oppressed ; 
my nature impelled me that way ; that, notwithstanding 
my Roman nurture, and Roman prejudices, I had still 
observed with indignation the place, which in Rome had 
been assigned the J ew, and the manner in which, both 
by those in power and the common citizen, he had been 
treated; that nothing there could be done by so few 
against so many, and I had waited, hoping that time 
might, in its changes, bring some redress. But I 
had waited in vain, and I could only cry out against the 
fortune, which had made me a Roman by birth, but a 
Jew by blood, and so the heir of a hated and degraded 
name. Finding myself now upon the soil of my proper 
country, and hearing what I now had from himself, and 
what had been communicated by others, I could not but 
confess that my heart had grown warmer toward my na 
tive land, and I should watch with interest the affairs 
which were now m agitation. 

Philip replied that I should do well to examine for 


JULIAN. 


33 


* 


myself into the state of the city, and by inquin upon 
both sides, learn the exact truth in respect to the par- 
ticular dispute of which he had spoken. He hoped I 
should dwell with them a while, and from that point, as 
a centre make my observations. But if, upon a short 
survey, I found myself a Roman still, I should do well, 
within a few days, to take my departure, since with the 
same certainty that Pilate adhered to his present reso- 
lution, would there be uproar, violence, and bloodshed 
in Caesarea.” 

I said, “ that no prospect of such an event, even though 
I should remain neutral, would drive me from Caesarea, 
if for any other reasons whatever it should be my wish 
to prolong my residence, for I was a lover of anything 
else better than a state of repose, and should choose to 
stay and see the conflict carried on to its end. But, if I 
might judge from my present feelings and convictions, 
and if nothing adverse occurred, I should be ready to 
take part with him and his friends in any measures they 
might think it proper to adept.” 

I can see an approving smile light up your counten- 
ance, my mother, as you read these words, just such a 
smile as came over the features, stern and dark as they 
were, of Philip. He took my hand with passion as I 
ended, saying “ he hoped God would confirm me in my 
present purpose, and turn my heart wholly toward the 
deliverance of Judea. What was about to happen in 
Caesarea was truly a small matter, but it might prove 
the beginning of mighty revolutions. A spark had set 
whole cities on fire. What shall be done here, may stir 
up those of Jerusalem to deeds of the same sort. They 
especially bear Pilate no love for insults put upon them 

o 


84 


JULIAK. 


many years ago. Now will be the time for vengeance. 

If I judge not our people amiss, they need but such an 
example as we shall set them to show themselves worthy 
of their fathers.” 

I assured him, as he said this, “ that I now remain in 
Caesarea till the present affair was ended, putting off 
my journey to Beth-Harem ; and though I should not 
consciously interpret falsely the signs that might appear, 

I should not be sorry if 1 felt myself bound to remain 
here rather than go farther. I was a stranger to those 
in Beth-Harem, as well as to all else in Judea, and my 
only tie was that which now bound me so agreeably to 
Caesarea.” 

“ Are you, then,” asked Philip, with eagerness, “ on . 
the way to Beth-Harem, and do you know the great 
Onias, who truly may be called the prince of that re- 
gion ?” 

He was both amazed and overjoyed when he learned 
that Onias was the brother of my own mother ; amazed, 
as he said, that I should to so late a period have re- 
mained a stranger to one so great as he, and my own 
uncle, and overjoyed that through me possibly he might 
be able to draw Onias over to take part in their affairs. 

“ Yet,” he added, a shade passing over his countenance, 

“ It will not be much that a Roman, or at best, but a 
half-Jew, can do for us with Onias. There is only one 
thing Onias scorns more than a Roman, and that is a 
Roman Jew.” I told him, that, perhaps, before I should 
see Onias, if I saw him at all, I might, by the events 
here in Caesarea, be converted to a veritable Hebrew, 
one whom he would not disdain to take by the hand and 
admit to his counsels, in which case my services should 


JULIAN. 


not be wanting. Philip hoped it might be so ; and then 
after more conversation of the same sort, he rose, and 
taking me first to different parts of the extensive garden, 
brought me at length to the house, where we found the 
mother and daughter awaiting us, at a table spread with 
the best hospitality of the East. 

I enjoyed the repast, my mother, I must confess, not 
less than some of those in Rome, at which Drusus has 
presided, and where I have reclined upon patrician 
couches. Never, indeed, did I enjoy myself or my com- 
panions more. Yet am I the same person who say this 1 
Am I he, who but so little while ago shunned a Jew as 
a Jew shuns a leper ? Am I he whose highest ambition 
hitherto hath been to ape the Roman, talk like him, walk 
like him, dress like him, smile like him, frown like him, 
and who now am the inmate of Jews, — Jews, not of 
Rome, who are somewhat, but of Judea, who are the 
refuse and offscouring of the earth, the loathing of the 
Roman, the scorn of the Greek, the hatred of all men ; 
a people fit but to be the drudges and slaves of politer 
nations ? Truly, I doubt if I be Julian, the son of Al- 
exander, who but so late left Rome on his Eastern trav- 
els, the bosom friend of Quintius Hirpinus and Appius 
Lucretius, his fellow-travellers, both sons and compan- 
ions of princes, and have not been, by some strange 
power, changed to another nature, and another person. 
Of another nature I certainly am, — at least of another 
mind; or rather, perhaps, I have come or am coming to 
knowledge of my true mind, which in men oftentimes 
lies buried, as I think, out of sight, till events, or the 
will of God, reveal it. W ell, most beloved mother, of 
one thing I am sure, that whatever change of this sort 


SG JULIAN. 

has come upon me, thou art the happier for it. Now 
thou hast hopes that I shall not forever bring shame 
upon my descent and my kindred ; that I shall now, at 
length, perhaps, set before me the great and excellent 
of my native land for my examples, in place of those 
of Rome; some holy David, or Ahab, or Hainan, 
if my memory be right, and try upon such steps to 
mount up to honor and fame in the eyes of my 
proper countrymen. May that come to pass, whatever 
it may be, which shall impart to thee the greatest pleas- 
ure. 

I have now passed in this ocean capital, this Jewish 
Rome, two days ; and they have not been wholly barren 
of events or pleasures. But what they chiefly have im- 
pressed upon my mind is the speedy certainty of riot 
and violence within the city. The mutual hostility of 
the different portions of the inhabitants I find to be bit- 
ter to an extreme degree. The signs are many, and dis 
tinct enough, of approaching tumult. No Jew passes a 
Greek, but he must take an insult ; and if it be returned, 
it then comes to blows, and others join, and the fight 
rages till they are separated by the Roman horse. The 
synagogues, often beautiful with marble, or sculptured 
wood, have been defaced by filth, which the licentious 
rabble have hurled upon them, when protected by the 
night. So, too, have the houses of the principal men 
among them been dealt with in like manner. Yet, of 
all this the Roman power takes no note, but looks on, 
apparently pleased with the violences and indignities 
which are put upon the barbarians, or their only care is 
that there shall be no general combats ; and to this end, 
the guard of the governor has been doubled, and ere the 


JULIAN. 


S7 

decree to raze the devoted synagogue shall go into effect, 
a legion, it is so reported, will be drawn from Jerusalem. 
Philip, in the meantime, with others of the principal 
citizens, is working in secret to make ready, in the last 
resort, such a defence as shall, perhaps, strike Pilate as 
too formidable to be trifled with. Yet, it is their pur- 
pose, that no general resistance by arms shall be made, 
till all other means have been tried to soften the obsti 
nacy of the governor. 

The Jews, after a consultation among those who 
are chief among them, have resolved upon another 
and more numerous deputation to Pilate. Five hun- 
dred of their number, headed by the priests and elders 
of the synagogues, are appointed again to present them- 
selves before the governor, and intercede for the people 
and their religion. All have agreed in this measure, 
but it has been chiefly urged by the ITerodians, who are 
unwilling that the present peaceful order of things 
should be disturbed. They are for quiet and peace, 
on whatever terms of submission, and for adopting, 
to the farthest extent possible, without the absolute 
surrender of their national religion, the customs and 
usages of both Roman and Greek ; it being with them, 
as it hath been with others whom 1 could name else- 
where, a point of vanity to strip ...lemselvcs of every- 
thing, that by its strangeness should proclaim them 
Jews, retaining little but the name, and a very slight 
observance of their sabbaths, fast-days, and other laws 
and institutions of the like kind. They advocate for- 
bearance and delay now, for the reason especially that 
the games of Herod are just about to be celebrated, 
and ought not to be disturbed. The more zealous 
4 


38 


JULIAN. 


Jews have united with them, because, for the most 
part, they would sincerely deprecate a general quarrel, 
in which the affair now seems likely enough to ter- 
minate, and hope, by a fair show of temperance and 
patience, to carry their end against the Greeks. But, 
among these last, there is a small number. — small com- 
pared with the whole, — but composed of men who set 
their religion before all other things, who will suffer 
nothing to be done, which shall so much as seem to 
cast contempt upon it, if even by the sacrifice of their 
lives the evil can be averted. These are men the most 
singular I have ever yet met with. Religion is to 
them, as they say, and as one sees, more than life ; yet 
they are filled at the same time with the darkest, 
fiercest passions. The very temper and soul of the 
assassin seem lodged -within them, so that to defend 
some ceremony or law of their worship, from slight 
or insult, they would not pause to involve a whole 
city in war and bloodshed. Philip, I need hardly say, 
is one of these; while his mother and sister, though 
belonging to the number of the zealous, yet are truly 
desirous to avoid open violence. He rather desires 
it, that he may revenge himself and his religion upon 
such as have oppressed and injured them. If, my 
mother, thou wouldst know upon what side, and 
leagued with whom stands thy unworthy son, who 
as yet may be termed little more than a proselyte 
of the gate, — he can hardly to-day inform thee. He is 
at present rather a looker-on than an actor ; and on 
which side he will by-and-by find himself, he pretends 
not to say. Of one thing, however, is he certain, that 
he will stand guardian in any time of danger over the 


JULIAN. 


30 

tt-idow of Sameas and her dark-skinned daughter. 
Anna thinks thus ; — and she makes pretensions to a 
great gift of discernment; “Julian,” she said to her 
mother, “ seems little enough of our side, if one judges 
by the costume, the air, and by words that lie on the 
surface of discourse. But by the motions of his coun 
tenance last night, when he sat listening to the words 
of Simon, am I sure that his heart must ever be on the 
side of the injured ; and by what he did not say, am I 
sure that, either because of the early instructions of his 
mother, or because of his very nature, it is only the 
God and the faith of Moses that will ever give him 
rest. He wants more than he has. And where shall 
he find it but here among us V 9 So said the wise and 
penetrating Anna. Her mother smiled, and nodded, as 
if assenting. I only said in reply something that im- 
plied my thought, “ that among the Jews, as among the 
Romans, there was too much in their religion of what 
was only ceremonial and barren, that too many seemed 
to think it enough to meet the letter of some dead 
ritual, while the practice of virtue was overlooked.” 
She only looked sad and sorrowful, as I said this, which 
was to me as if she had confessed that it was true 
enough of great proportions of her people. In her own 
heart, I knew it was sufficiently otherwise, though I 
could not say so. There is, I am sure, truth and faith 
enough in her to save a city. 

Caesarea is now filling with the numbers of those 
from the country round about, who are pouring in 
to witness the games of Herod ; numbers greater than 
usual, drawn not only by a desire to see the sports, but 
by curiosity and interest concerning the present differ- 


40 


JULIAN. 


ence. Philip assures me that the zealous are arriving 
from great distances. 

When some new events have happened, I will write 
again ; till then, farewell.” 


In this slight vein, in those days of my more than 
Egyptian darkness, did I open myself to my mother ; 
who did not, thereupon, deny and disown me, as she 
might justly enough have done, but had patience w'ith 
me, and by her timely counsels strove, and not wholly 
in vain, to carry up to a full and perfect growth those 
feelings of love tow'ard my native country, w'hich then 
just began to show themselves. In this manner, also, 
like a child, did I suffer myself to be afflicted by the gen- 
eral hatred entertained toward our people by the other 
nations of the world ; a hatred of which I had more rea- 
son to boast, seeing that it had its birth in those religi- 
ous distinctions which exalted us above every other 
people. Had I possessed any power of reflection, also, 
or any knowledge of their writings who anciently had 
discoursed of the Jew's, I should have perceived that all 
of this hatred and contempt, that had not its natural 
origin in envy of our superior advantages, w'as to be 
charged upon the lies, which, first engendered in the 
brain of the execrable Manetho, — fruitful of lies as the 
Nile of reptiles, — had then descended, an inheritance of 
falsehood and error, through succeeding generations, but 
which had ever been greedily seized upon, and with un- 
abating malignity constantly transmitted to those who 
were to come after. Even the Romans, notwithstanding 


JULIAN. 


-U 

their greatness of character, and notwithstanding so many 
families of our nation had lived among them with 
distinction, and had even been entertained as favorites 
in the very household of the Ceesars, were not ashamed 
to treat us with the like injustice, and continually 
reproach us with our origin and our laws. But the 
wickedness and injustice were not greater on their part, 
than were both the vanity and the baseness on mine, so 
manifest in my courting the favor and regard of those 
who, at the very same time, so openly despised the peo 
pie from whom I sprung. As you shall soon learn, 
however, I was presently cured of a folly, which, I doubt 
not now, made me to be scorned by the very persons 
who seemed most to flatter me; for he can never be 
held as worthy of a real esteem, who appears to be 
ashamed of his own kindred. 

Again I draw from my letters to my mother ; for al- 
though my recollection is exact and vivid of those days 
and events, so that, as I think, I could set them down in 
order, applying to that source alone, yet in this the be- 
ginning of my history, 1 shall, I doubt not, more per- 
fectly comply with your wishes, my kinsman of Rome, 
if I appear before you in the very form in which 1 painted 
myself in those remote days. It was thus, then, the 
second time, that 1 addressed myself to the blessed 
Naomi. 

4 * 


42 


JULIAN. 


II. 


I said, my mother, that I would write again so soon 
as new events had happened. That necessity presented 
itself immediately upon my sending to you the letter 
which I last wrote, — if those may be called new events 
which are to be witnessed, not so much in separate acts 
or occurrences, as in the ripening of the time toward 
some general and final issue. Such seems to me to 
be the condition of Caesarea. Large numbers of the 
people indeed, both J ew*s and Greeks, are little concern- 
ed by this quarrel with the Governor, being wholly 
engrossed by the expected games, either preparing 
to attend them with every circumstance of display, or 
to receive into their dwellings as visitors during 
their continuance, the friends and kinsfolk who make it 
their five years’ custom to assemble at Caesarea at this 
great festival. But greater numbers, however, although 
together with the rest they look forward to the games 
with pleasure, and to the entertainment of both friends 
and strangers, are much more deeply engaged by the 
difficulties of which I have already given you some 
account. The games may occupy their hands, but other 
interests, hopes and fears are busy at their hearts. 
Especially is this the case with the Jewish portion 
of the population. No one would dream that less than 
an empire were at hazard, to judge by the demeanor of 


JULIAN. 


43 


this people. In truth they seem to me at all times a 
solemn tribe ; and this feature of their general character 
is darkened to a gloom like that of night, by the present 
aspect of their affairs. Their motion through the 
street is slow and cautiou?, with eyes cast down, or 
talking with one another in low and secret tones — 
turning continually with sudden movement the head to 
this side and that, as if expecting instantly the blow of 
an assassin, or the insult of a Greek. I confess myself 
amused not a little as I watch them. But if this is 
so with the Jews generally — or rather with the more 
zealous portion of them — how much more is it true of 
so fierce a spirit as Philip. Not the dark Casca nor the 
lean Cassius ever carried in their eyes what so threatened 
States with ruin and revolt. Although I cannot but 
judge his cause in the main a right one, yet can I not 
work up myself to his pitch of fury ; but, on the contrary, 
do what in me lies, partly by reason, and partly by a 
lighter rhetoric, to soothe his almost disordered mind. 
My success has been much such as it would have been, 
had I essayed to stem the northern tide as it rushes in 
at the open mouth of the Port, making colossal Rome 
and Asia to tremble on their bases. 

On the morning of the day which preceded the open- 
ing of the games, and which was to witness the hearing 
of the Jewish deputation before Pilate, the air being close 
and oppressive, I sought the cooler walks of the garden, 
and reaching the little arbor of which I have spoken, 
took out my tablets and wrote. I had been not long 
thus engrossed, when I was interrupted by the sudden 
entrance of Anna, with a countenance more than usually 
expressive of anxiety. She seated herself near me, say- 


j tr i. ian. 


14 

mg, as she did so, “ I have come seeking you, and am 
glad to have found you here, and yet I hardly know why 
I have come, and I fear lest I deprive you of time that 
you need for more important objects.” I assured her 
that I was performing no duty of more importance than 
writing to my mother, and that her own name was the 
last from my pen ; of what I had said concerning her I 
could not inform her ; it was, however, no evil report, 
she might well believe. But what, I asked, was it 
which disturbed her, for her countenance spoke of some 
new alarm. “ It is nothing new,” she answered, “ nor 
anything, I fear, in which you will think you can serve 
us, and I hardly can say why I apply to you — yet you 
have inspired us with a strange confidence, and we think 
that because you are from Rome, while still you are of 
our own race, you will judge of our affairs more justly 
than we can do, who are so near, that everything appears 
of perhaps an unnatural size and interest. In a word, 
my mother begs you, and I join her in the entreaty, to 
use whatever power you may possess, to moderate the 
zeal of Philip, and hold him back from aspiring to be a 
leader in these affairs. I, alas, can do nothing ; for no 
sooner does he appear with that face of his, and his 
burning words, than I am straightway kindled with his 
ardor, and grow as hot as he.” I told her, “ that what 
she had now asked of me, I had already of my own mind 
attempted, but with no good effect whatever. Philip 
will take no counsellor to his bosom, beside his own im- 
patient spirit, and Simon, who, good as he is, is mad as 
Philip himself.” 

“ Mad ! — Julian 1 Oh, not quite mad” — 


JULIAN. 


45 


“ My dear Anna, you cannot yourself bear the whole 
truth.” 

“ I will try — now say on — you must forgive me.” 

“Take, however, Anna, all that I would say, .and not 
a part only. Philip is mad only in his impetuosity and 
haste ; not wholly in the great purposes which he 
cherishes. I blame him not that he is restive, as a Jew, 
beneath Roman oppression, such as I now see it with 
my own eyes to be. I can, with him, scorn the base 
spirits who with new submissions are waiting to pur- 
chase the forbearance of the Governor. Were I a born 
Jew of Caesarea, I would with Philip be a Jew in the 
full possession and enjoyment of my rights, or I would 
renounce together my faith and my country. A Jew 
with the name only, is one who with wonderful folly in- 
vites insult from the whole world, while from that 
which brings this universal contempt upon his head, he 
derives neither profit nor pleasure. In th : s Anna, I 
speak the words of experience. I would not that Philip 
should be the fool that I have been. You will be glad 
to know, in respect to myself, that in the few days I 
have been here I have lived years, and that the demon 
who has so long possessed me is departing. I am be- 
come a Jew in feeling at least, as well as in name. 
Henceforward, if I am still to bear reproach, it shall not 
be for naught. Such at least is the resolve of to-day. 
You now cannot doubt that I am on Philip’s side, that 
with him I would fight for the fair rights and the honored 
name.” 

“Ah! how I bless you,” cried Anna with glowing 
cheeks, “ for these words. You then think with Ph. : lip, 
that he is right.” 


40 


JULIAX. 


“But you came to me, Anna, did you not, that I 
might oppose him ?” She answered nothing, but only 
covered her face with her hands. 

“ I think Philip to be both right and wrong,” I then 
continued, “ as you would see yourself, if you would re- 
flect one moment. In his principles and general pur 
pose he is right, so I judge ; in his present action he is 
wrong: he is over hasty. He will but inflame both 
the Governor and the Greeks to visit upon your part of 
the population some new violence, while he is in no con- 
dition to resist them, or take the least advantage of the 
contest that may ensue. He can display all the courage 
and spirit of one who is ready to perish for his rights ; 
but I fear — to suffer — will be all that he can achieve* 
Do you not feel that it is so V 9 

“ I do believe it,” she answered. “ It is my constant 
thought when alone, but the presence of my brother 
drives it away. Where he is I can only feel. I am 
never myself but by halves. Wisdom, I fear, I shall 
never reach.” 

“ Wisdom, Anna, is not for so young as you. I am 
older by many years than you, yet I have not so much 
as come in sight of it. What I have now been saying 
may sound very wise, but I know not if it be so. I can 
only say that I think as I do now. I pretend not to 
know. It is a new thing for me to be appealed to for 
counsel, who have hitherto been myself a dependent 
upon others.” 

As I said these words, steps rapidly approached, and 
Philip entered the little building where w T e sat. His 
countenance expressed a mind disturbed and angry. 

“ How now, Philip,” said Anna, “ what new evil have 


JULIAN. 


47 


you to report with that ill-boding brow? Surely Pilate 
refuses not to hear us ?” 

“No, my sister, it is not that, but worse. Pilate re 
fuses not to hear. But we refuse to be heard. Digest 
that.” 

“How, Philip, can that be? Was it not in full as- 
sembly of our people that the five hundred were deputed 
once more to wait upon the Governor ? Who can have 
revoked that decree but the people themselves ? And 
they have not done it.” 

“ The decree hath not been revoked, and the five hun- 
dred proceed this day to the judgment seat of Pilate, 
but with their tongues cut out, and their hands bound.” 

“ Speak not in riddles, Philip — what is it ?” 

“It is true, Anna, as I have said, we go with our 
tongues out, and our hands bound. Neither Simon, nor 
Eleazer is our mouth-piece, but — whom think you? 
Sy Ileus !” — 

“ Our tongues are out indeed,” exclaimed his sister ; 
“whose bad work has it been ?” 

“ Of all — save a sacred few. And now, may — ” 

“Nay, Philip, swear not,” said Anna, and laid her 
hand across his mouth. He thrust it rudely from him, 
and again began his usual oath ; but his affection for his 
sister obtained the mastery, and he suddenly paused, 
kissed her cheek, and asked her forgiveness. The kiss 
put to flight all her remaining resolutions of moderation, 
and changed her for the moment to but the counterpart 
of himself. 

“ It might, indeed, then,” she cried, “ as well be that 
we were heard not at all. A Roman is as good a J ew 


48 


JULIAN. 


as that unbelieving Sadducee — our J ulian here were a 
better.” 

“ Who, I pray you,” I then asked, “ is this Sylleus 
that it so inflames you he should fill this office ?” 

“ Have you not heard of him ?” said Philip. “ But I 
forget you are but newly come to Caesarea. Sylleus 
leads the Ilerodians ; and what with their own numbers, 
and the faint-hearted among us of the stricter sort, it 
has been an easy victory to place him at the head of 
this embassy. I ought not in reason mayhap to have 
looked for other issue than this. Yet I cannot but feel 
it, for it brings us bound hand and foot, to bide the will 
of Pilate. Peace, not truth and right, is the watch- word 
with these slaves with souls less in bigness than a. grain 
of mustard-seed, or the point of a needle, who would, 
like their true ancestor, sell their birth-right for a mess 
of pottage. Surely, now-a-days there can be no shame, 
like that of being a Jew — apostates all — hypocrites and 
slaves.” 

So did he run on, full of violence till he had spent 
himself, and exhausted his stores of a proud and indig- 
nant passion. I could not but honor the feelings from 
which it all came, growing up, as they did, from that 
deep root of religious reverence, which, planted in his 
youth, had been duly nurtured, till it had spread 
throughout his whole nature, and drew everything to 
itself. Still I was sufficiently conscious that his was a 
virtue in its excess — in such excess that it was changed 
almost to a vice. His religion seemed to me little 
more, or better, than a blind and dangerous superstition. 
I dared to say to him a part of what I thought. I said, 
“ that, according to my belief, he would gain more, by 


JULIAN. 


43 


a more moderate course of action — that the laws of his 
own faith would be better observed, not to speak of a 
true policy, by conduct which should exhibit signs of 
patience and forbearance, and a willingness sometimes 
to yield a little for the sake of peace ; especially when 
so to yield was not to surrender anything that could be 
called a principle, or a point of faith; but was only 
bending for a time before the force of circumstances. 1 
too would have him to be a Jew, and that not in name 
only, but in every act of his life, and purpose of his 
soul ; but I would have him consider whether by a too 
violent and passionate demeanor, he did not, in truth, 
do a more treasonable act toward his religion and na- 
tion, than by one of more calmness. Pilate, surrounded 
by his soldiers, -was not easily to be turned from his 
course, nor were the Greeks so few, or so weak, as to 
be deterred from what they had undertaken by any 
show of opposition, which, so far as I could judge, it 
was in the power of the Jews to make. It truly seemed 
to me, that for the present, at least, the affairs of his 
people would prosper more in the hands of Sy Ileus, 
than in those of Simon.” 

Philip listened as I spoke, and without those vehe- 
ment exclamations of wonder or contempt with which 
he is accustomed to interrupt those who utter opinions 
contrary to his own. But I could see by the fixed and 
grave expression of his countenance, no muscle moving, 
that he heeded, no more than the marble seat on which 
he sat, the words he had heard. 

“ The Law,” said he, “ given of God to our Fathers, 
is no human instrument, it is no fabric wrought by the 
hands of men to be altered at our pleasure, or winked 
Vol. I. — 5 i> 


50 


JULIAN. 


out of sight at our will or convenience. It is the law of 
the God of Moses, and therefore wholly right, and to be 
obeyed and honored by those who receive it, in the spirit 
•and in the letter, by the observance of its rites, by the 
keeping of its festivals, by the reverence of its Sabbaths, 
by the payment of its tythes — by the worship of him 
who founded it, and the hatred of those who would sub- 
vert it. The proper Jew is one who not only loves, but 
hates. The measure of contempt, that is by other na- 
tions served out to him, he returns heaped up and run- 
ning over. The Jew’s bond of allegiance to the Jew is 
not a more binding one, than that which leagues him in 
everlasting hatred against the gentile. Our ancestors, 
who with the besom of extermination and death swept 
the land of their inheritance of its accursed tribes, and 
spared neither the sucking child, nor the tender maid, 
nor the hoary head, are an example unto us of our day, 
how we should deal with any, who shall dare to set up 
their rest on the consecrated soil of this kingdom, not 
of man, but of God. 

“ And even as he of old was but a traitor, an apos- 
tate, and a rebel, who held back his hand from the 
slaughter of the people whom God had devoted,- — the 
Amorite and the Hittite and the Perizite, even so is he 
who doth the same now. The idolatrous Canaan ite of 
our day is the Roman and the Greek. The hand of 
God will ever be against us, till by the hand of those 
who love his law they be driven from the land, where 
their presence is as blasting and mildew. 

“ I have waited, Roman, for such a day as this, and 
now it is come I hail it, and give God thanks. I dare 
not disobey the voice that sounds in my ear. As foi 


JULIAN. 


51 


Pilate and his legions, I care no more for them than for 
the chaff driven of the wind. I and the few who are 
with me may fall a sacrifice before that altar, on which 
the servants of the Most High have ever freely offered 
up themselves. But, if for the present — it will not al- 
ways be in vain. Others, and other times shall reap the 
harvest.” 

“ Such consequences may ensue,” I replied, “ it cannot 
be gainsaid. The least events, so esteemed once, have 
proved nothing less than the corner stone of changes 
which have amazed the world. But no eye can discern 
the possibility of aught but suffering and death, in a revolt 
like this, without concert and without preparation. You 
will only furnish fresh victims to the cruelty of Pilate.” 

“ For myself,” answered Philip, “ I am ready to be a 
victim — I should not fall unhonored nor unavenged.” 

“ But suppose, Philip, your fall should drag down also 
to the same ruin — your mother and sister.” Philip’s 
stern countenance relaxed, and he gazed fondly upon 
Anna, who taking his hand and forgetful of everything 
but him, said, “ Let no fear, my brother, lest a little 
flower should perchance be trodden into the dust, lay re- 
straint upon thy spirit. When God and Judea eall, go 
on thy way, let perish what will that shall be under thy 
feet,” 

To say anything more I perceived to be worse than 
useless. We rose from our seats and in silence wound 
our way together to the house. At the ninth hour the 
deputation was to wait upon the governor. Philip soon 
left us to join his friends in their consultations; I did 
not accompany him, as he desired and urged me to do, 
but answered him I should be present at the hearing 


52 


JF WAN. 


before the governor ; in the mean time I should walk 
forth and observe the temper and behavior of the people. 

I accordingly took my way toward the principal part 
of the city which as yet I had scarcely seen. I was sur- 
prised, as I proceeded, by its extent, and the signs of 
wealth and taste even, in the forms of edifices, in the 
width of the streets, and the solidity of the pavements. 
The buildings of the city most remarkable for the cost- 
liness of their materials, for the observance of the best 
rules of Roman and Grecian art in their structure, for 
the grandeur of their parts, and the spaciousness of the 
grounds about them, are those which were erected by 
Herod the Great. As I have before said, I believe, they 
were built in too great haste to be built well, and there 
are everywhere to be discerned signs of weakness and 
decay ; but they everywhere also give abundant evi- 
dence in their forms, proportions, and general elegance 
of design, that the mind that projected them had been 
well instructed in the best science of the capital of the 
world. Everything in a word is here Roman or Greek ; 
nothing Jewish. Even the synagogues, although they 
are here as everywhere of peculiar form, indicating 
thereby to whom and what they belong, are yet both in 
the structure of the outer walls, of the inner porches, 
and the central edifice itself with its columns and roof, 
altogether conformable to the principles of Roman mod- 
els. And truly, except the taste in such things had been 
borrowed from Rome, it is easy to believe there would 
have been but little to be witnessed among this people; 
for it must be confessed, my mother, that whatever por- 
tions of unfounded truth they may be in possession of, 
they are in other repects somewhat rude and barbarous. 


J U LI A N . 


53 


Hiey possess, it cannot be denied, that which is most 
valuable ; yet were it desirable also that they had added 
some of the graces and refinements of life, which give so 
real a beauty to the Italian and Grecian cities and prov- 
inces. A little while since and I should not have la- 
mented this, though I might have noted it. Now I 
sincerely deplore it, as it tends to deprive them of 
the estimation among the rest of mankind which is 
justly their due. A virtuous man loses his power, if 
his countenance and manner wear not an accordant ex- 
pression. And so truth methinks, religious as well as 
every other that is of worth, should be clothed with 
beauty. That can hardly be pure truth which shocks 
ind offends by its ugliness. It is adulterate. 

But of all the edifices which adorn the city, the Palace 
f Herod, and now the abode of our Governor, is the 
vaost conspicuous for its vastness and richness. It would 
ltvti be mean in Rome. As I stood contemplating it, 
little heeding those in the street who were passing and 
repaying me, a voice at my side addressed me : — 

“ I perceive, Sir, that you are a stranger by the 
manner in which you examine an object, which to us 
who dwell here is old and familiar. This magnificent 
structure we owe to the generosity and public spirit of 
the Great Herod ; truly called the Great. He was too 
great to be hemmed in by the boundaries of Judaism ; 
and though born a Hebrew aimed to be as much a 
Greek, and, by Hercules, a Roman too, as well as a Greek. 
Pardon my fi-eedom. But having little else to do, I am 
tit your ser ice to give you any information you may 
desire. I am thankful to him who can procure me occu- 
pation. The igh dressed in the Roman fashion, yet, Sir, 
5 * 


54 


JULIAN. 


I perceive you are a Jew. But that need make no dif- 
ference ; I am a Greek, it is true, as you on your part 
may see; and you may suppose not unreasonably that 
I hold a Jew in small esteem, seeing how things go in 
Caesarea ; but, Sir, I consider man first — afterwards only 
whether he be Jew, Greek or Roman. What think 
you V? 

I was so rejoiced that the noise he had made at length 
ceased, that, though inwardly I fear I used him hardly, 
I complimented him on the last sentiment he had 
uttered, and told him “ I thought it w r orthy of a phi- 
losopher, which he seemed to be.” 

“ Truly I flatter myself,” he replied, “ I am somewhat 
of a lover of Wisdom, but to say sooth, it is not always 
so easy to distinguish wisdom from folly, even as it 
is not so easy sometimes to know a philosopher from 
a fool. I aim at wisdom, but I often doubt, whether I 
do not hit folly, and be not a fool.” 

I could not help thinking that he had arrived at one 
wise conclusion, and turned to depart; but he was 
not to be so easily shaken off; he followed, and con- 
tinued to pour forth a stream of talk, by turns wise 
and absurd, but always rapid and noisy. He com- 
mented upon every building we passed remarkable 
for its beauty or its purpose, and named to me every 
citizen we met, Jew, or Greek, informing me as to his 
condition, affairs, office, or wealth. As we came before 
the devoted Synagogue in our walk, it furnished him 
with an inexhaustible theme. He said “ that not Pilate 
himself knew better what would happen than he. Nay, 
not so well ; for Pilate knows not at once his own 
mind ; but the Greeks know theirs, and that it will be 


JULIAN. 


55 


no impossible thing to force it upon the Governor. 
And before a few days are passed, Sir, these walla 
will lie level with the pavement. This cannot be 
agreeable to you Jews. It is always an evil to belong 
to the weaker party ; but then you know the philo- 
sophic virtue of submission to what is inevitable. 1 
trust -your people will manifest their wisdom in a 
timely and politic acquiescence.” 

I asked my unavoidable companion, how he could 
feel so sure of Pilate’s determination, especially as 
he was to hear the Jews again to-day, by some of their 
people who were more inclined to accommodation. 

“Human nature, Sir, human nature,” — was his re- 
ply; “who knows not the Greeks? and who knows 
not Pilate? Prophecy is often nothing more than a 
shrewd judgment. The wise know what shall come 
to pass, from what already is, and has been. I confess, 
I see everything that shall be these few coming days 
with the same plainness as if it had already happened. 
There will be sad uproar, believe me. 

I said, “ I hoped not.” 

“ Ah yes,” he rejoined, “ it is a good thing to hope ; 
but one hopes less as he grows older and wiser. I 
know a few things, but I hope in nothing. — A fair day 
to you, most worthy Cataphilus,” cried my companion 
suddenly to one who passed, gaily and richly dressed, 
“ How is it with your great master to-day ? I trust he 
is in health.” 

“ He is well,” replied the other, “ but he is closely 
shut up with despatches from the Emperor — Excuse 
iny haste,” — my companion was about to lay hold 


JULIAN 


56 

upon a fold of his robe — “ I will say that Zeno inquired 
for his welfare and forced himself away. 

“That man,” said my new friend, “is ever in a 
hurry ; he is, you must' be informed, Pilate’s chief 
steward, and knows many things, if one could but get 
them out. But it is just so with all in this noisy place. 
I can scarce find a man who will allow me more than a 
few words, ere he must perforce be off to keep some 
appointment. It was not so in Athens. There, one 
could find a few who would give you an hour or so in 
the markets, or at the corner of a street, or at the bath. 
But here, great Jupiter, I surely deem that a pot of 
Tyrian dye, or a bale of Egyptian cotton is held to be 
of more value than would be a discourse from Plato, 
and a merchant more honored than a philosopher. But 
that Cataphilus, whom we just met, as I was saying, 
he has a master, and that master is Pilate, and Pilate 
has a master, who is Tiberius. Those despatches from 
Rome, I trow, give him some trouble. lie stands, I 
doubt, on slippery ground. But this in your ear. We 
Greeks make use of him, but we esteem him not any 
more than you Jews. Now, my young Hebrew, we 
approach the market, and a sight it is, I assure you ; 
there, behold ! That too was the work of Herod. Few 
things in Athens are finer.” 

It was a noble structure indeed ; and the whole scene 
was imposing and grand, owing both to the buildings 
and the crowds of people who thronged the streets and 
squares. We stood where we had paused, observing 
and admiring, till, being too much jostled and incom- 
moded by the swift moving currents of passengers, 
we withdrew a few paces to the steps of a portico, 


JULIAN. 


57 


where we could see and converse without interruption. 
As we thus stood here, and Zeno enlarged with volu- 
bility upon the various objects before us, our attention 
was suddenly arrested by the loud tone of a voice com- 
mencing its prayers in the Hebrew tongue. I turned 
to the quarter whence the sound proceeded, and just 
within an arch of the portico, hardly separated from the 
street, there stood a Jew with face uplifted, and hands 
spread out, uttering at the top of his voice his noon- 
day prayers; his eyes were so turned up as to give 
him the appearance of one in an agony, and his voice 
seemed to come forth from the passages of his nose 
rather than from those of the mouth. So distorted was 
his whole countenance by the sanctimonious expression 
he had assumed, that I did not at first recognise my 
companion on board the vessel. But as soon as I had 
made the discovery, I asked the Greek, who the person 
might be who was so diligent and noisy at his de- 
votions. Zeno was amazed at my ignorance. 

“What,” said he, “hast thou been but a day in 
Caesarea, and hast thou not heard of Ben-Ezra, the 
holiest Jew in all the city, the very head of the Phari- 
sees, and with the common people of more sway than 
either Simon or Eleazar? Daily, as the shadow of 
yonder dial falls upon the sixth hour, may this trumpet 
tongue be heard in the market of Caesarea ; a proclama- 
tion of holy zeal to the fuels who cannot see, though 
they have eyes — of false and vain pretence to those who 
know how to use the eyes God has given them. See, 
his worshippers are gathering to listen. Such prayers 
never reach the gods. Perhaps it is not meant they 
should. They are answered in the effect they have 


58 


JULIAN. 


upon these asses who are crowding round with their 
long ears erect. Let us away. This voice puts to 
flight my philosophy.” 

So we passed on and mingled in the thickest ol’ the 
throng of buyers and sellers — now in greater multi 
tudes than usual, owing to the games. With almost 
all the affair of the synagogue was the subject of con 
jecture or dispute; and from very few did I hear a 
word of encouragement for the poor Jew. All sorts of 
opprobrious language was poured forth upon our un- 
happy people, and prophecies freely uttered of the 
destruction of the building before a few more days 
should pass. 

“You see how it is, my little Jew,” cried Zeno, 
as we turned away from some of these, “there is no 
hope for you. The gods have decreed your defeat, 
and you are defeated. Better trouble thyself no more 
about it. Accompany me to the Amphitheatre to view 
the preparations that are going on, and leave your 
bewildered countrymen to Pilate. Be assured he will 
take care of them.” 

I made him comprehend at length, after repeated 
attempts to avert the flow' of his Greek, that I was too 
interested in the fate of my countrymen and friends 
to be absent on such an occasion. He took leave of me 
with reluctance, but not till he had learned where and 
with v r hom I dwelt, and had promised to bestow upon 
me more of his company. 

I returned to the house of Sameas. Anna and her 
mother I found employed in domestic affairs ; wdiere- 
fore I withdrew to my apartment, and gave myself 
even a higher pleasure than their society could ha\e 


J JLIAN. 


t>9 

imparted # by conversing through my pen with you, my 
mother. But the time has come when it behoves me to 
repair to the Hall of Pilate, that I may not lose what 
shall there take place between the Greek and the Jew 
before the Roman Judge. 


. : ; r 



t.0 


JU LI VW. 


III. 


The scene has passed ; and I am again returned to my 
apartment and my tablets, to describe to you all that has 
happened. 

The Hall of Judgment, as the Csesareans term that 
building, 'where the Roman Governor hears and judges 
those causes which come before him, stands not far from 
the palace of Herod, and, indeed, although it faces in an 
opposite direction, and is separated apparently from it, 
is yet connected with it by covered and secret passages, 
so that communication can be quickly made from one to 
the other. Pilate, they say here, being ever fearful lest 
some revenge, either public or private, should be taken 
upon him for his violences committed against communi- 
ties or individuals, contrived these and divers other secret 
methods of escape from one building to another, and from 
one part of the city to another. The building is not, 
however, like the palace, of marble, and of the like ele- 
gance in its design and ornaments ; it is, on the other 
hand, constructed of a dark and gloomy stone, and 
though grand in its form and proportions, cannot boast 
of what is properly termed beautiful. As I now drew 
near, I perceived that on all sides it was encompassed by 
crowds of people, waiting for the coming of the Jews, 
and what was to follow. The whole city seemed to have 
come together into one place. ] was apprehensive lest 


JULIA:*. 


Crl 


owing to the multitude I should find it impossible to 
force myself within the building ; for it appeared to me 
certain, that if so many were without, the space within 
must be more than filled. I thought it hardly worth my 
while to proceed, and had paused, that I might, at least, 
perhaps, by remaining where I was, witness the approach 
of the Jews, and the manner in which they would be re- 
ceived by so great a concourse of citizens, when I was 
suddenly saluted by the philosopher Zeno, from whom I 
had been parted but for a short time. He had evidently, 
by too fast walking, lost his breath, for he could utter 
himself only, as it were, piece-meal — a great evil to 
one whose usual speech is like the running of a wine 
cask. 

“ How now, my Jew of Rome,” cried he, “ how think 
you your friends are to come up with you at your rate 
of walking ? He who ran for help from Athens to 
Lacedceim >n — Phi — ” 

“ Phidippides.” 

“Ah, that is it — Phidippides — Phidippides ran not 
so fast. It is well you halted as you did, else had you 
lost my salutation and my company.” 

“Your company,” said I, “I fear still I must lose; 
for owing to the numbers who are pressing into this 
narrow space, and are already in advance of me, I have 
resolved to return whence I came, though 1 shall miss 
much that I had hoped to witness.” 

“ Now' shalt thou acknowledge, Jew r ,” cried he, “ that 
there is, for once, use and virtue in a Greek. Follow 
me ; and though thou shalt not get on at the pace of 
Phidippides, we shall arrive soon enough. So lay hold 
of my gowm and come on. There is not a blind alley, 


02 


JULIAN . 


or a covered way, or a secret entrance in Caesarea that’s 
not known to me, which is one advantage that accrueth 
as a consequence of havthg nothing to do.” 

So saying, he led the way, and threading his passage 
among the throngs, at length emerged into a bye way 
wholly clear of • the populace. — Passing through this, I 
perceived that we had approached very near to the rear 
of the principal building ; then, by now descending, and 
again ascending, enveloped now in darkness, then sud- 
denly coming again to the light, meeting and seeing but 
few, and those apparently officials of the place, who all 
smiled and nodded to my companion as knowing him 
well, we came forth, at length, upon the broad paved 
area of the chief entrance ; when, ascending a magnificent 
flight of steps, crowded with others rapidly moving in 
the same direction, we soon stood within the walls of 
the Judgment Hall more properly so called, being the 
vast apartment in which Pilate sits to hear whatever 
causes may be brought before him. With the knowl- 
edge of one who is familiar with such places, Zeno, im- 
mediately upon gaining the floor, pointed to the spot 
where we could both hear and see to the greatest advan- 
tage, and which none as yet had seized upon. W hereupon, 
we without delay secured it. 

“ These people,” said Zeno, “ though now apparently 
so quiet and peaceable, yet require not much to be said 
or done, to throw them into a ferment of passion, and 
mingle them in bitter fight. The Greeks have bound 
themselves together by oaths, not to forego their end, if 
it can be gained by any means which are within their 
reach. They are too many for you Jews, even though 
you were all of one mind ; but as I hear and know, you 


JULIAN”. 


G3 

are divided into parties which are little less hostile to- 
ward each other, than any or all of you are toward the 
Greeks. This will make their victory easy. Pilate, too, 
is with them.” 

Zeno was interrupted in his talk, which flows other- 
wise with a perpetual stream, by the stir occasioned by 
the approach and entrance of the deputation of the Jew's. 
Their priests came at their head, clothed in the usual 
garments of the service, followed by Sylleus and those 
of the Herodians w'ho had been selected to accompany 
and support him. It was among those who entered last, 
that I observed Philip, Simon, and Eleazer. Imme- 
diately upon this, Pilate, from an opposite entrance, 
made his appearance, and advanced to his chair of state, 
on either side of which were ranged his friends, the 
officers of his household, his secretaries, heralds, and 
soldiers. 

The aspect of this man is cold and dark. His coun- 
tenance is bloodless, his eyes restless, near together, and 
set deep beneath his brows, which are straight and black. 
The features are very fixed, and more as if they were 
made of stone than of flesh. He neither smiles, nor 
gives evidence, on the surface, of any other emotion, 
either agreeable or painful ; but maintains one rigid 
sameness of expression, except that at times a shadow 
so deep as to seem cast by an external object, but in 
truth proceeding from some terrible inward commotion, 
lends to his face the darkness and terrors of night and 
death. He appears, for the most part, like one with- 
drawn from what is immediately before him, and brood- 
ing in secret upon some deep design. This appearance 
I may have seen in him, indeed, from first knowing his 


04 


JULIAN. 


character ; which for a selfish rapacity, and a heartless 
disregard of the rights and the lives of those who come 
within his power, has made him to be noted, not only 
here in the East, but at Rome also. I thought him to 
be one, as I observed him, into whose hands I should 
unwillingly fall ; who would not, perhaps, indeed, injure 
or slay so much from feelings of wanton cruelty, as from 
a cold indifference to the life of another ; just as there 
are those who will not, truly, go out of their way to 
crush an insect, but will not turn aside the breadth of a 
hair, if one should perchance lie in their path ; and 
those who, if through some error, they have been the 
cause of innocent lives being destroyed, will enjoy none 
the less their next hour’s rest, or their next cup of wine. 
This also appeared to be the truth as to his character, 
from what at this audience, I was able to observe. 

No sooner had he taken his seat and looked round 
upon the suppliants before him, than he said, with ab- 
ruptness : 

“ Why is it that again, with a strange and foolish ob- 
stinacy, J ews of Caesarea, ye seek my judgment seat ? 
Do you think to change my mind, by this new embassy ? 
Think you to gain anything by setting the whole city in 
an uproar 1 Who speaks for you ? 

One of the priests replied, “ Sylleus, noble Governor, 
the Herodian Sylleus is set to plead for us.” 

“ Why not the Roman Sylleus 1 Methinks it became 
you more to have among you a sect of Romans than of 
Herodians. Belonging to Rome, it were well that some 
of you, at least, bore the name.” 

“The name comes not,” replied humbly the same 


JULIAN. 


65 


priest, “ chiefly from Antipas of Galilee, but as much 
from his great father.” 

“ Ah, well, that is better. There were little honor in 
coming of him of Galilee. Where is this Sylleus ? let 
him say on, and let him be brief. A cause heard twice, 
may be heard quickly. Let Sylleus the Ilerodian de- 
clare himself.” 

Whereupon Sylleus rose, and stood before Pilate; 
and after much fawning, and a long exordium of swollen 
flatteries, he was about to enter upon somewhat more 
pertinent, when Pilate’s patience broke forth in a stern 
rebuke : — 

“ Cease, Sylleus, to praise. W e are Governor here 
in Gesarea, we know; and the right arm of Caesar. 
Tell us not of that with which we are already well 
acquainted, but come at once to the matter in hand.” 

“ Most noble Pilate,” then began Sylleus again, “ we 
are fain to seek thy great presence once more, for that 
we are well convinced, that when before we stood in 
this place, the people of the Jews, who are ever desirous 
to demean themselves as good citizens, were not repre- 
sented by those who could or would make known to you 
the real sentiments of devotion to Caesar, which fills the 
bosoms of our nation generally, and more especially of 
the inhabitants of this great Capital. They spake, so 
we judge, not so much as suitors for a favor, as after the 
manner of those who stood to enforce what they wished. 
Verily, their words were more those of the foes, than 
the friends of Rome. They spake too sharply of their 
rights, and of Rome’s duty to her far off provinces, 
whom, said they, she is bound to protect, and defend 
against aggression, specially when- aimed at their rew 
G* £ 


GO 


JULIAN. 


ligion, which it hath ever been the custom of Rome to 
respect and secure to her subjects. Whatever truth, 
noble Pilate, there may be in such things, we name 
them not, but rather come pleading our friendship and 
affection for Rome, and asking to be held by her as 
lovers and children. It was the Great Herod who first 
taught our people to seek their country’s prosperity no 
longer, in separating themselves so far from others in 
their manners, laws, and worship, but in mingling with 
the people of every nation, and adopting with freedom 
whatever was seen to be excellent in their various modes 
of life ; and especially to make these interchanges w r ith 
those who are the masters and the model of the whole 
world. It is well known to you, with w r hat success he 
drew almost the whole nation after him ; but particu- 
larly those who dwelt upon the sea-coast ; so that in the 
process of not many years, the customs and manners of 
Rome were to be seen in a great many of our cities, 
and nowhere more than in Caesarea ; so that even the 
games and sports of the Circus aiid the Theatres were 
to be enjoyed in many places, in Caesarea, Herodium, 
Gamala, Machaerus, without the necessity of a voyage 
to Rome ; and so that even our religion, for adhering to 
which with devotion, we have been famous through all 
history, we began to think might relax somewhat of its 
harshness, and receive somewhat of the milder spirit 
which marks the faith of Rome. Receive it, then, O 
Pilate, as a truth not to be gainsaid, that we, who live 
now, are more pervaded by the leaven, as many do call 
it, of Herod, than were those who lived but a little 
while before us; to that degree indeed, that, save in 
some few respects of little moment, the Jew of Csesarea 


JULIAN. 


07 


may, without impeaching greatly one’s powers of dis- 
cernment, be taken for a Roman. His garb is the same, 
his language the same, his amusements the same ; and 
what separates him, is indeed but little worthy of re- 
gard. Now, most excellent Governor, if the Jews of 
Caesarea be such, why should they not be dealt with as 
friends, subjects, citizens, and children of the Universal 
Empire? We see not why a synagogue of the Jews 
should be razed for this purpose, any more than a tem- 
ple of Jupiter or Apollo. We will not yield to any in 
our love and honor of Rome. Condescend, great Prince, 
to consider this, our great affection and to grant our suit. 
And now — ” Pilate interrupted him : 

“That is well said, Sylleus. Thou hast done well, 
and said enough. I doubt not now your love for Rome. 
But answer me this — are you not still Jews ? Call you 
not yourselves Jews 1” 

“ Assuredly we do,” responded Sylleus. 

“ Ah, hah,” said Pilate, “ then are you not Romans. 
A Jew is a Jew. A circumcised Jew can be no 
Roman.” And upon that the Greeks and the rabble 
laughed. Pilate, as this subsided, continued, in a sharp 
and bitter tone. — 

“You Jews are surely a short-sighted, besotted 
people. What cares Rome, think you, for your good 
will ? Shall she owe you thanks and favors, that you 
affect her, and honor her ? She owes not these to her 
own citizens and children. What she wants, by the 
gods, she can command ; her arm is long enough and 
strong enough to reach even to you, and what she 
would have you, that shall she make you. — What more 


68 


JULIAN. 


would you say ? Speak, for time presses, and the air 
grows hot.” 

Sy Ileus thus urged, and finding, doubtless, that much 
of the argument he had prepared could not so much as 
be uttered in the ears of the Governor, much less set 
forth in order with his usual flourishes, came at length, 
after much hesitating, and a long and indirect preface — 
in which he was more than once interrupted and re- 
buked by the Procurator — to the statement of the 
proposition which he had been directed to reserve to 
the last. 

“ The Jews of Caesarea,” he began, “as is well known 
to your Greatness, and, indeed, to all the world, are a 
poor people, and what little wealth they can heap 
together is obtained by a labor, and by hardships and 
industry, such it is believed, as the natives of no other 
land ever present an example of. And if Caesarea is 
poor, so too is Jerusalem — Judea, and Galilee, and 
Perea, it is all the same ; we are a small and poor 
people. Yet, according to our ability, are we willing 
to part with our hard-earned gains, if, in exchange, wo 
can obtain privileges and favors which to us are more 
than wealth.” Pilate raised his head, and looked at 
Sylleus. Zeno remarked that, in his judgment, for a 
Jew, Sylleus was a man of discernment. “ Especially,” 
he continued, “ does it gratify us, who, as I have before 
aimed to show, love Rome even as her own children, 
when we can offer our mite to increase the lustre of her 
greatness. Nay, it were not reason that we looked to 
obtain at all times that which we covet, without some 
sacrifice on our part, or some relinquishment of what 
we value in due proportion to what we receive.” 


JULIAN. 


r,o 


“ You surely judge,” said Pilate, “ like good citizens 
and honest men.” 

“ Wherefore, most noble Governor,” continued Syl- 
leus, “ it is through the counsel of our chief priests and 
the other most esteemed persons of our body, that I 
now say, that to ransom what is so dearly prized by 
Jewish hearts, wc gladly offer to the treasury of the 
Empire a gold talent of Jerusalem, which, though it 
may seem but a small sum to those who hold in their 
hands the wealth of the whole earth, is yet a huge one 
to those who, as we do, acquire our riches, if we may 
ever be said to possess riches, by little and little, and 
never much.” 

An evident sensation was made throughout the crowd 
by this proposition of the Jew. It had not been looked 
for. I asked Zeno if this was the way in which Rome 
raised taxes. “ Little of money so got, ever goes to 
Rome,” he replied. “ This is for the purse of Pilate. 
The Jew has touched the right chord, and it sings 
music in the Governor’s ear. He is thinking of brace- 
lets and ear-rings for his wife, the beautiful Procla. 
See, he smiles graciously on Sylleus, and seems not to 
catch the murmurs from the Greeks. If he heeds them 
not, I warrant him they will soon grow louder than he 
will like.” 

Pilate, for the moment while this -was said, sat silent 
and unobservant of all around him, then suddenly broke 
out, — 

“ Thou hast said the truth, Sylleus. Rome loves her 
distant subjects as her nearer, and ever accepts with 
pride the tokens of their regard.” lie was about to 
proceed with other things, when he was interrupted by 


70 


JULIAN. 


a loud and clear voice, which I at once recognised as 
Philip’s. 

“ Listen not, O Governor, to the words of one who, 
in every word he utters, seals the dishonor of his 
country.” — But Philip was in his turn, rudely silenced, 
at Pilate’s instance, by a herald who stood near ; for at 
the same moment he had observed that Lyeias, the 
leader of the Greeks, wished to address him. Many 
of the Jews now cried out for Philip, others for Sylleus, 
and the Greeks shouted the names of Lyeias and Philte- 
us, each party striving, by noise and uproar, to secure 
the success of its chief. Pilate at length succeeded in 
enforcing silence, and then called upon Lyeias to say 
what he would. 

“ Most noble Governor,” said the Greek, as soon as 
his voice could be made to prevail over the slowly sub- 
siding tumult, “ it is a long time that the honor, which 
the united Greek population of Caesarea have proposed 
to render to the reigning Emperor, hath been made a 
matter of notoriety, both here in our city, and in the 
neighboring places. Even at Rome, it hath been famil- 
iarly spoken of by such as are acquainted with our 
affairs and been carried to the ears of Caesar himself; 
It hath been also reported to Caesar, that the imperial 
colossus should stand upon the loftiest point of the city 
— now filled by the Jewish synagogue — so that it might 
be conspicuous to all entering or departing from the 
Port; and to such as travel the great roads to the 
Capital, as those of Asia and Rome now are ; and more 
than this, that the ground hath already been ceded to 
the Greeks for this use by the Governor. To me and 
to us, is it plain, O Pilate, that the honor arising from 


J CL I AN. 


71 


this act on the part of the Greeks of Caesarea, will be 
more esteemed at Rome, than will be the miserable 
pittance proffered by the Jews, which can hardly be 
thought to be equivalent to more than half the value 
of the building now deforming the finest quarter of the 
city. He can scarce be reckoned a friend of Caesar, and 
of Caesar’s honor, who, for a colossus of marble upon 
the topmost point of Caesarea, shall substitute a talent 
of gold, which, while it vanishes in the using, the other 
endures with nature itself, from one part of which it is 
carved out. If the omnipotent Tiberius be in want of 
money, let the Greeks of Caesarea make a contribution 
of such pence as they can spare, and by the first ship 
despatch it to Rome. 1 ” Here was there much commo- 
tion amongst the multitude — the Greeks exulting, and 
the Jews showing signs of rage and impatience — Pilate’s 
pallid face grew whiter still. Zeno said, “ That Greek 
is bold, is he not 1 But were he not sure how it 
stands with Pilate at Rome, he might as well have cut 
off his own head, as said it. Trust Lycias for both 
courage and cunning.” 

Lycias was about to begin again, when Pilate, assum 
ing his usual air, and rising, said, 

“ I will hear no more of the matter. What I have 
decreed, I have decreed. The first judgment shall stand. 
I was willing to grant an indulgence to you, Jews of 
Caesarea, and to hear what further ye might have to al- 
lege against the judgment I had rendered; but it has 
proved but another occasion of tumult and confusion — ” 

Pilate was here broken in upon by the loud voice of 
Philip — “ The true reasons,” said he, “ O Pilate, why 
thy judgment should not stand, have not been rendered 


72 


JULIAS. 


by the false Sy Ileus ; listen to me, and thou shalt heat 
them — •” 

A new uproar was now occasioned. The Priests, 
with signs of rage in their distorted countenances^ 
shouted, “ Hear him not, Pilate, he is mad ! The Jews 
themselves hold him mad.” The Greeks, too, now took 
sides with them in the endeavor to silence him, but his 
voice prevailed over all. 

“ The true reason, O Pilate, why this judgment should 
not be rendered is, that it will breed riot, revolt, and 
war, in Caesarea, and it may be, throughout Judea. 
Deem not that though some of the Jews be traitors to 
themselves and their God, all are therefore so. For I 
say unto thee, there are those in Caesarea, and they are 
not a few, who will sooner pour out their blood upon 
the altar of their God, as did those Galileans whom 
thou doubtless rememberest, or ever they will see dis- 
honor done to the house of their worship. Believe not 
the foul-mouthed apostate, when he tells thee that there 
is love between us and thee, between Israel and Pome. 
I tell thee there is hate — deep, deadly, inextinguishable 
hate, and there is nothing else. The Jew hates the Ro- 
man, defies and spits upon him. Ilerod did not quite, 
although he did almost, un-Jew us. There be some left 
who name not his name, but another’s who lived long 
since, of whom, perchance, the noble Pilate has heard 
somewhat, J udas of Galilee ! And besides him and 
much more. Ilerod Antipas, whom thou lovest not ; we 
hold from him, and hope, helped by the God of our 
fathers, that he shall Jo a work of which the world shall 
hear. There is a cup in His hand, and the wine is red, 
and as for the dregs thereof, ye of Rome shall wring them 


JULIAN. 


73 


out and drink them.”— -What more Philip would have 
said none can tell, for at that moment Pilate’s voice was 
heard — 

“ Strike him to the ground ! Hew down the rebel”— 
at which the soldiers, who were near, made towards him 
as they could through the press, but happily in vain ; 
for the Jews who were around him closed him in, many 
of the other party joining them, and in spite of the ef- 
forts of the soldiers, whose swords and spears were 
flashing around and falling mercilessly upon any who 
were nearest — they love nothing like the blood of a Jew 
— Philip was thrust into the thickest of the multitude, 
and so escaped. But the words of Pilate were the sig- 
nal for a general tumult. The whole mass, heaved to 
and fro in the struggles of all, either to defend them- 
selves, to assail others, or to escape from the Hall ; the 
confusion and the terror being increased by the stern 
command of Pilate, heard above all the din, for the le- 
gionaries to be drawn from the Camp to the Square, 
he himself at the same moment hastily disappearing 
through the door in the rear of the apartment, by which 
lie had entered. 

The throng being now too dense to permit the use of 
weapons, every thought and effort of each was centered 
in the endeavor to fly from the place, and in the haste 
and hurry thus occasioned, many, both of the Greeks 
and Jews, were thrown down and trampled to death, in 
the narrow passages, and on the descent of the steps. 
When the streets were once gained, the apprehension 
of the Roman soldiery caused the crowds, with precipi- 
tation, to fly for the shelter of their homes. As for our- 
selves, Zeno, when he saw to what head the tumult 
Vol I. — 7 


74 


JU LI AN. 


would grow, with a prudence which is a part of his char- 
acter, drew me away with haste to the near neighbor- 
hood of the entrance by which we had gained the room, 
so that when the tumult had reached its highest, and no 
more was to be witnessed with safety, we departed the 
way we came ; many who were near us, observing our 
movements, and escaping by the same means. As we 
rapidly made our way through the narrow and secret 
passes, by which we had approached the Judgment 
Hall, the air was fdled with the noise of the retreating 
and flying crowds, and soon, above all, was heard the 
clang of the trumpets of the Roman Horse, as, yet at a 
distance, they swept along the streets toward the scene 
of action. So great, however, was the terror on the 
part of the people of this weapon of Imperial rule, that 
by the time the Horse had reached the Hall, they found 
themselves the sole occupants of the square and the 
streets, a moment before so thronged with half the in- 
habitants of Caesarea. 

I soon parted from Zeno, and hastened to what I al- 
ready begin to call my home. Anna and her mother * 
were awaiting with anxiety the event of the audience. 

I had scarcely ended my narrative of the occurrences of 
the hour, when Philip appeared. He was now calm, 
but bore marks, in the fiery glow of his countenance, of 
the scenes through which he had just passed. Although 
he conversed with moderation, and with gentleness to- 
ward us all, yet was there a wildness and restless wan- 
dering of the eye, which showed to me that his soul was 
deeply agitated, and was still devising further schemes 
of resistance. Anna, after having heard from both of us 
full accounts of all that had happened, no longer made 


JCLTAN\ 


75 


any effort to restrain herself or Philip, hut surrendered 
herself to the undivided dominion of her religious, patri- 
otic zeal, and by the lofty tone of her indignation, and 
her sincere devotion to her faith, served to lend a fresh 
impulse to her brother. Where this will end, or what 
will next ensue, I cannot pretend to divine; but the 
causes of discord and quarrel are too many, and now 
too bitter, to be speedily put at rest. 

I cannot wonder, my mother, at the rage into which 
devout Jews are thrown, or any who retain the least at- 
tachment to their country, and reverence for those who 
have lived before them, or any remembrance of their 
ancient greatness and renown, nay, who have any proper 
feeling for themselves, when they behold themselves, 
the lives of their children, their homes, the prosperity 
of their cities, and the religion which they have received 
through so many ages, made the sport of a tyranny like 
this. Rome at home is compassionate and indulgent — 
at least, magnanimous ; but in her distant administra- 
tion of the extremities of her vast Empire, where her 
own eye cannot penetrate, she is, through her ministers, 
oftentimes most unjust and oppressive. Pilate, as I 
learn, and as I see, rules in Judea, not for the good of 
the province over which he is set, but for his own. His 
first care is to turn the streams of wealth, of w r hich he 
can obtain the control, into his own coffers — next into 
those of Rome ; and whenever his own wants of more, 
and still more, cry out louder than usual, or the cry 
comes over the sea from his great master, then pretexts 
in abundance are found, or invented, for extraordinary 
assessments upon the people, and to that degree, that 
ruin to the merchant and the husbandman often stalks in 


the footsteps of the publican. Nay, among the Jews, 
those who lend themselves to this service, and for the 
sake of a livelihood, or possibly larger gains, allow 
themselves to be employed as collectors of these im- 
posed burdens, are held in even greater abhorrence than 
the masters whom they serve. That toward both, all 
the anger and hate should be felt which now -rage in the 
breast of Philip, and of those who are with him, is natu- 
ral and necessary ; and I blame Philip, therefore, not for 
his principles, but for his policy. He surrenders him- 
self wholly to his passions, which bear him apparently 
with more despatch toward the attainment of his object, 
but deceive him, and end in leading him farther and 
farther from that at which he aims. He, who obeys his 
passions rather than his reason, is like one who, on the 
ocean, should hope to reach the port, trusting to the 
winds alone. They may drive him swiftly ; but if there 
be no rudder and no helmsman, the faster he shall go, 
the farther it may be from the haven he seeks. 

After a stormy day, I now willingly seek repose. 
To-morrow the games of Herod commence, and it will 
not be strange if disturbances should again break out* 
When it shall have passed, I will record its events. 

The day has come and gone in peace. I will not, my 
mother* describe the scenes I have witnessed at the 
Amphitheatre, resembling as they have, even to the 
minutest ceremonial, those of the same kind in Pome, 
of which you have often heard, though you never 
'witnessed them. To thine apostate son was left that 
office; and faithfully were its duties fulfilled. Never, 


JV LI AN. 


77 


as I think, was I absent after my tenth year, from any 
game or show within the walls of Rome — or never, ex- 
cept when my old master Plancus used to interpose, 
out of regard, as he averred, to my progress in my 
studies, and obtain from you, or from my father, an in- 
terdict to be laid upon my movements. With my 
father, I believe, he rarely succeeded, he being ever am- 
bitious, that, by mingling, at all times and in every 
place, with the Roman youth, especially at their national 
sports and public games, I should grow up in their like- 
ness, and lose my own. It was to you I owe it, that 
occasionally I was withheld from such scenes, and kept, 
instead, to my Greek. But my relish for them I find 
not to be quite dead within me ; even on the humbler 
scale in which they were to-day exhibited in this provin- 
cial city. And truly I was not the only son of Abraham 
then and there present, but beside me, as it were, the 
whole Jewish population of Caesarea — so successful 
have been the means resorted to, to tempt our people to 
adopt the customs and manners of their conquerors and 
masters. The more strict, indeed, were not there, such 
as Anna, Philip, Simon, and their friends ; but they are 
few in comparison with the whole. On the third day 
of the games occurs the Sabbath, when many more will 
be added to the numbers of the absent; but so fatal is 
the power of bad example, great numbers will also be 
found in the seats of the Theatre — amongst whom, alas, 
thy son may be. 

On the evening of the first day— as I was but now 
about to say — wo sat together in the portico, looking 
both over the garden, and the waters of the sea, as they 
7 * 


78 


JULIAN. 


then sparkled under the light of the half-grown moon. 
Our talk was of the games, and of what had been 
witnessed there. I related all 1 had cither seen or 
heard. Simon also was of our company ; who asked 
me whether any difference was to be noted in the de- 
meanor of Pilate toward the Greeks and Jews. I told 
him 1 had noticed none ; or if any, that his manner was 
even more gracious toward those of the J ews who were 
near him than to any others, and what was more perhaps, 
that at the side of Procla sat the wife of Sy Ileus. “ There 
is no good designed,” said Simon, “ in any quarter, when 
Pilate smiles; least of all, to us. Would that his 
w ife reigned here in Judea, instead of him. Her smiles, 
and they are many, are of the heart. W ere her coun- 
sels followed, there w’erc no uncertain prospect of days 
of peace in Judea. She is full of humanity, as he of 
cruelty. Tow'ard our people she has ever shown herself 
prompt to do them favors, and atone, as she might, for 
the slights and affronts of her husband and other lordly 
Romans. The Lord be nigh unto her in the hour of her 
necessity.” 

“ Often has she been known,” said Anna, “ to interpose 
between the judgment of Pilate and his victim, — believ- 
ed by her to be unjustly condemned, — and snatch him 
from the death that threatened ; and sometimes has she 
herself in the silence of night set open the prison door, 
and unlocked the chain, and set the prisoner free, trust- 
ing to Pilate’s love of her,— which all Caesarea knows 
how fond it is, — to overlook the offence. Her heart is 
full of pity, and even the Jew is not shut out.” 

“ He is not,” said Simon ; “ to day at the Synagogue 
and in the Market it passed from mouth to mouth, that 


JULIAN. 


70 


Procla was on our part, and that to the wife of Sylleus 
she had declared as much, and had said moreover, that 
whatever it lay within her power to do, that would she 
do gladly for the furtherance of our desires. The peace 
with which this day has passed gives hope that justice 
and milder counsels- will prevail.” 

“ It is,” said Philip, “ the treacherous calm that pre- 
cedes the tempest ; the smoothness of the stream before 
it shoots the precipice ; the stillness that comes before 
the lightning; the quiet speech of Joab when he smote 
Abner under the fifth rib. Look not for peace till the 
yoke of slavery shall have been fastened upon the neck 
of every man, who dares to stand up and call himself a 
Jew. Procla’s intercession may buy the life of a male- 
factor, or save a thief from the stocks, but at a time like 
this her smiles would scarce avail to change the mind 
of Pilate. Ilis love of money and his dread of Caesar 
are stronger both, than his love of Procla. ’Tis ru- 
mored, that the Greeks more than make good the bribe 
of Sylleus.” 

“Still,” said Simon, “I will hope the best. If to- 
morrow shall also go over, and our temple still keep its 
place, I will believe that the Lord hath turned the heart 
of our enemy. For it is Pilate’s wont not to delay what 
he purposes.” 

I could not help saying here, what I did not doubt was 
the truth, that it was not to be questioned that Pilate 
would carry into effect his purpose sooner or later; he 
might not do it to-morrow or the day after, but as there 
was no power to prevent him, and there was a strong mo- 
tive for him to do the Greeks this favor, he would neither 
pause nor hesitate in the work before him. This was, 


80 


JULIAN. 


as I learned at the Amphitheatre, the opinion of all whc 
were most capable of judging, who knew Pilate well, and 
were interested in the event neither one way nor another. 
And I added, that I could not but hope, that, whatever 
iniquity there might be in the measure, it would not be 
resisted, but that afterward, since it could not be done 
before, an appeal would be made to Caesar. However, all 
I could say was of little weight with any, except perhaps 
with Simon, who judges now' more calmly in the matter 
than at first. As for Philip, he declared if all deserted 
him, as most seem likely to do, he would fall alone un- 
der the axes and engines, ere he would live to witness 
the impious wrong. Anna was of the same mind. 

Ceasing then to converse upon themes, which w’ere 
sure to agitate all who engaged in them, we walked 
forth into the garden and spoke of other things, and 
lingered till a late hour among its avenues and shades. 
It was not till the sounds in the neighboring streets had 
died aw ay, and the confused murmur that came up from 
the vicinity of the Amphitheatre, where idle revellers 
and the more dissolute youth of the city pass both day 
and night, had at length growm so faint as scarcely to be 
heard, that v'e were warned to our rest. 

The second day of the games has come and gone in 
like manner as the first. But there are as it seems to 
me, many indications that another will not pass so 
quietly. At the Circus the affair of the Synagogue in 
all the intervals of the games was, as it were, the sole 
topic of discourse. Some, both of Greeks and Jews, 
espousing one side and some another ; for many of the 
Greeks are generous enough to condemn the measures 
which have been urged upon Pilate, and many of the 


JULIAN*. 


SI 


Jews, on the other hand, are base enough through sub* 
serviency to the Roman power to defend him, and throw 
blame upon the churlishness as they term it, of the 
zealous, who will listen to no propositions of surrender. 
Zeno, who, with his troublesome partiality for my con- 
versation, was not long in perceiving in' what part of the 
Theatre I had placed myself, soon joined me, “ that lie 
might enliven,” as he was pleased to say, “ by his pres- 
ence and discourse, the solitude in which P seemed to be 
pining.” I asked him, how in his judgment stood the 
affair of the Jews; for however this man may render 
himself both tedious and absurd, by the perseverance 
of his friendship, and the manner of his talk, it still is 
universally admitted in Caesarea, that no other individual 
is during any one day in so many different places, sees 
so many persons, hears so much news, and heaps to- 
gether so many facts ; so that to no other source of 
information could I apply with so great a certainty of ob- 
taining the knowledge for which I sought. He was very 
positive in his belief, in reply to my inquiries, that Pilate 
held to his original purpose, and that nothing now could 
turn him from it; that the second hearing of the Jews 
had done them more harm than good ; that Philip had 
enraged him, and that he would now in spite of appear- 
ances soon take his revenge. I told him that I thought 
Lycias had said more to offend than Philip. This he 
admitted ; but replied that it was for Pilate’s interest, 
nay it was necessary for him to overlook that ; and 
besides lie attributed the whole disturbance, into which 
Caesarea had been thrown, to what he calls the supersti- 
tious obstinacy of the Jews. “ To-morrow is your Sab- 

p 


82 


J C L I AT?. 


bath, and to-morrow will the measure be carried into 
effect,” said Zeno; “I doubt this no more than that 
Pilate sits there before us toying with Procla’s bracelets, 
and now turns his dark brows to watch the last agonies 
of that dying gladiator. He reckons much upon the 
Herodians — which, some say, but for mysterious reasons 
which I do not understand, is a false reliance — and the 
divisions among you ; and is persuaded that there will 
now be but faint opposition, and that on the part only 
of a few madmen like Philip.” 

Philip throughout this day has been engaged in secret 
movements with his party. It is their purpose to post 
themselves in the immediate neighborhood of the Syna- 
gogue, concealed in the dwellings of the Jews which are 
nearest. Many of these are inhabited by Roman Jews, 
who would not admit Philip, nor any of his adherents. 
But an equal or a greater number are in the possession 
of those who arc united with him. These buildings are 
separated from the walls of the Synagogue by very 
broad streets, and almost surround it, and afford a ready 
and secure place of concealment, while awaiting the de- 
cision of Pilate, and of retreat, if either their own des- 
perate zeal, or the Roman sword should spare them for 
such an act. There can be little question but that to- 
morrow will behold the destruction of the Synagogue. 
Although no public order has been given, and the people 
will be tempted to the Theatre by unusual spectacles ; 
yet those who know the manner in which Pilate con- 
ducts such affairs are well persuaded of it. Lest, my 
mother, the events of another day should not allow me 
to end and seal this letter, and commit it to the vessel 


J71T 4*. 


ft 3 

which to-morrow sails for the Tiber, I will close it now, 
commending myself to you with all love, and offering 
the salutations of the widow and her daughter. 

When the morrow is over, I will write of its events 


84 


J C1IA3 


IV. 



That morrow is past. Its sun has gone down in 
darkness. I keep my promise, my mother, and at once 
tell you of its scenes and events. 

It was, as I have said, the Sabbath. In the household 
of Sameas the observances were as with those of the 
stricter sort in Rome, except that Philip was early 
abroad attending to the affairs committed to him. 
Anna and her mother repaired to the Synagogue. As 
they were departing, Anna turned to me, and said, 
“ Will you not, Julian, go with us?” I said that I could 
not; my anxieties were too many to allow me to 
worship, and I did not choose to be present with my 
body alone. She said that my answer had rebuked 
her, for she was sure she should think only of Philip. 
“ If,” said her mother, u you will not only think of 
Philip, but lift up your prayers for him, how, my 
child, could you be more devoutly employed ?” “ That 

is true.” replied the daughter, “ let us go, and pray for 
Philip and for Judea. Farewell, Julian, go not to the 
games.” And with these words, the last which I heard 
from her, she turned away and moved in the direction 
of the Synagogue. 

Not long after their departure, I too sought the 
streets, uncertain whether to bend my way toward the 
Amphitheatre, or toward the Synagogue, which, wlieth- 


JULIAN. 


85 

or I should enter it or not as a worshipper, certainty 
had all my thoughts. I was determined, as men ever 
are, by the multitude; and them I found all hurrying 
toward the Circus. The city seemed emptying in that 
direction, so great were the numbers of persons on foot 
and In chariots, on camels and on horses, many being 
from the country round about, who were thus hastening 
in the pursuit of pleasure. I, without will or purpose 
of my own, was borne along with the current. The ex- 
pectations, as I conversed first with one and then with 
another of those who were going the same way, were 
great as to the entertainment to be afforded. 

“It was to be the great day of the games. It was 
announced,” said they, “ as I might see for myself on 
the corners of all the streets, that an hundred Lions 
were to contend with one another, with other beasts, 
or with men. That was but a part of the show. There 
were other things greater yet. Pilate had never before, 
on his part, made so great provision for the amusement 
of the people. Old men said it brought to mind the 
days of Herod.” 

But long before I reached the plain on the outskirts 
of the city, where stands the Circus, I turned round, 
and moved in another direction, giving myself up to 
my meditations, thinking now of you, my mother, then 
of my journey to Beth-Harem, and most of all, of 
Philip and his sister. So I kept on my way, I know 
not how Jong, till suddenly the sounds of our Sabbath 
music struck my ear. The streets were now still,, and I 
paused and listened. The chant rose and fell with the 
gentle breeze that was stirring, and by its uncommon 
sweetness drew me on in the direction of the sound. I 
Vol. 1.— 8 


8G 


JULIAN. 


had walked but a few paces, when, leaving the narrow 
street in which I had been moving, I found myself to 
my surprise in front of the devoted Synagogue. T 
stood and leaned upon a broken wall, and again listened 
with more attention; for the voices of Anna and her 
mother I knew were mingling in the strain. But I had 
not stood listening long, ere another sound of a very 
different kind from an opposite quarter fell upon my 
ear — the distant rumbling of many wheels, the tramp- 
ling of horses, and the confused murmur which betokens 
the movement of a multitude. My apprehensions at 
once interpreted the meaning of the sound. It rapidly 
approached, and in a moment more a body of artisans, 
with their implements of labor, and massy engined for 
the levelling of walls, accompanied by a crowd of the 
populace and a small guard of Roman soldiers, came 
into view, and moved on toward the spot where I stood. 
At the same instant, as it were, the inhabitants of the 
street up which the army of destroyers were marching, 
the neighboring streets, and the square — inhabited al- 
most wholly by Jews — became aware that the long 
threatened and overhanging evil was now at hand and 
about to fall, and poured forth to witness or to resist 
the desolation. As if by the power of magic a multi- 
tude now stood in the spaces, where but a moment 
before were but a few idlers like myself. 

The worshippers within the Synagogue, warned by 
messengers from without of the sacrilege about to be 
committed, we now saw descending the lofty steps in 
slow procession, bearing in their hands the books of 
the law. They fled not at the prospect of the approach- 
ing danger, but gathered around the walls of their 


JULIAN. 


87 


undent temple, as if by their presence alone, with their 
revered priests and elders at their head, they could 
avert the storm that had gathered over them, or touch 
with compassion the hearts of the rude servants of 
irresistible power, now about to commence the work 
of destruction. That troop of slaves with their imple- 
ments — axes, saws, bars, and battering rams, — at the 
same time drew near, and spread themselves, as if with- 
out delay to begin their work, attempting to thrust back 
with violence the crowds which accumulated around 
♦•hem. But to this first and necessary work were 
these men unequal, for they had to contend not with 
the vile rabble that might have been found in the neigh- 
borhood of a theatre or a market, but with women, and 
children, and aged men, the mothers, wives, and sisters 
of many of the chief citizens of Caesarea, together with 
the priests and ministers of their worship. And they 
were met, too, not by return of blows or violence of 
any sort, but with tears and entreaties, and importunate 
cries of deep distress, imploring them to withhold their 
hands, nor bury in ruins the venerable temple of their 
faith. The loud sound of wailing and lamentation, 
arising thus from the voices of the women, mingled in 
strange and mournful confusion with the rolling of the 
heavy wheels, the cries of those who managed the 
engines, the oaths and vociferations of the workmen, 
the shrill braying of the trumpets, and the hoarse com- 
mands of the Roman Centurion, as he essayed to pre- 
serve what order he could, hemmed in and oppressed 
by so great a crowd of human beings. 

Pilate had ordered that no assault whatever should be 
made upon the Jews, unless first assailed by them ; and 


88 


JULIAN. 


that indulgence should be shown to natural expressions 
of sorrow and indignation ; but that open resistance 
should be punished without mercy. It happened soon, 
therefore, that the Centurion, not being permitted to re- 
sort to any measures of violence, found himself separated 
from the soldiers, and the soldiers from one another, by 
the irresistible pressure of the crowds. This was indeed 
of little consequence at first, because there were no signs 
of any other resistance being made, than that which pro- 
ceeded from the weeping of the women, and the passion - 
ate exclamations of the men. But as soon as the work- 
men had succeeded in planting their engines, and raising 
their ladders, and were preparing to ply their various 
instruments of destruction, a scene of horror ensued, 
which, if that Centurion could have controlled his soldiers, 
might in some sort — supposing any humanity to have 
dwelt in his bosom — by his interposition have been pre- 
vented. For when, after having in the manner I have 
said planted their engines in the proper position, and 
they were then for the first time about to ply them upon 
the walls, the Jews immediately around could no longer 
restrain themselves, but threw themselves, the women not 
less than the men, upon them and clung madly to the 
wheels, to the beams, and even to the head itself of the 
rams, and also rushing in placed themselves between the 
instruments and the walls, so that neither could the sol- 
diers work their engines, nor, if they could, was it pos- 
sible to do so without crushing vast numbers of the 
people that were upon them, around them, or lying pros- 
trate before them. Such reverence and love was there 
among them for the place and the Object of theii 
worship. 


JULIAN. 


89 


But when neither by entreaty, nor by such force as 
-hey could use, was it possible to tear these miserable 
beings from their fatal grasp, and when every warning 
had been given them that there would no longer be any 
delay, then by the force of the artisans were the engines 
drawn back, and when they had been so held for a few 
moments, were let drive against the walls, and all those 
who had chosen so to devote themselves miserably per- 
ished. Shrieks of agony, cries of horror, and impreca- 
tions of divine vengeance at that filled the air. Yet it 
now availed not. The engines were quickly drawn back 
again, and again driven against the walls, destroying all 
who still were in their way. But when by the Jews, 
who still possessed their reason, it was thus seen that no 
signs of devotion and no proofs of constancy could pre- 
vent the fated devastation, they then, as it Were with one 
accord, determined that their wives and children should 
no longer be permitted to be cither witnesses or sharers 
in what was further to ensue; and they were borne 
away not without force, so full were they of the spirit 
which is ready to sacrifice itself in the service of its God, 
to the dwellings which bordered upon the space in 
which the synagogue stood. Long before this I had 
with anxiety searched in the crowds for Anna and her 
mother, but in vain. But while I with others was en- 
gaged in this service of placing the women beyond the 
reach of danger, it was with the greatest joy that I dis- 
covered them already secure upon the roof of one of the 
loftiest dwellings. 

Now while this duty had been performing, the Ro- 
mans, taking advantage of the temporary dispersion of 
the crowd, plied vigorously on every side their hu^o 
8 * 


90 


JULIAN. 


battering rains, and clouds of dust, and the crash of fall- 
ing stones gave evidence how rapidly the work was going 
on. The walls of the outer court and the porches were 
fast tumbling in ruins. But no sooner were the women 
disposed of, than the Jews, actuated by one spirit of re- 
venge, forgetting in the heat of the hour the sacredness 
of the day and their resolutions of forbearance, and 
rushing in upon the workmen, by the overwhelming 
force of numbers, drove them from their posts. At 
this, the Roman Horse, and at the same time also the 
Greeks, and all others who were hostile to the Jews, 
poured in to the defence of the workmen ; and thus all 
around, both within and without the walls of the Court, 
and throughout all the surrounding streets, were the 
whole multitude mingled in bloody fight. As soon, 
however, as the Centurion had ordered to the attack the 
soldiers under him, then forth from out the courts of the 
neighboring houses, from the windows and doors, poured 
fully armed, Philip, Simon, and their adherents ; and 
though on foot fell with fury on the Roman and his 
troops. 

The Jews were now concentrated on one side of the 
square, the Romans and the Greeks on the other, and 
with or without weapons, all were engaged. But the 
Jews, notwithstanding their desperate bravery, and the 
freedom with which they sold their lives, were no match 
for the cavalry of the Romans, and were soon seen to 
yield their ground, and were, indeed, falling back fast, 
when they were arrested, and made to turn again with 
momentary success upon their enemy, by the sudden 
appearance of a small troop of mounted Jews, with one 


JULIAN. 01 

at their head, whose commanding air and impetuous 
charge, inspired his countrymen with new courage. 

“ Come on,” cried he, “ men of Israel. For the Lord 
and Judea,” — and, followed by his little band, fell with 
fury upon the Homans. It was at a moment when it 
was needful that fortune should show some favor to our 
people, though to me it was clear that they could not 
but soon be routed, and that with great slaughter — for 
Philip, upon whom dependence was placed, more than 
upon any other, was just then nearly borne down by the 
advancing Horse. But refusing steadfastly to retreat be- 
fore those whom he hated, but feared not, and to whom, 
if so it must be, he was ready to sell his life, he sought, 
and engaged hand to hand, with the Centurion. Though 
so unequal in their advantages, Philip made up in some 
manner, for his position, being on foot, by his stature, 
and the superior strength of his arm. The fight hung 
long doubtful ; but, alas ! as it could not but be, the 
Centurion prevailed, and by a well-aimed blow, clove 
his antagonist to the ground. At this moment the Jew 
horseman came up, and I looked that he should on 
the instant revenge the death of Philip ; but suddenly 
drawing in his horse, he cried out, in the Hebrew 
tongue, “ Hah, Gentile, Gentile, beware the fate of 
Abimelech.” Had he to whom this was said understood 
what those words conveyed, he might, by stooping upon 
his horse, have evaded the messenger of death ; but he 
knew them not; and they were scarcely uttered when a 
stone from a roof struck him lifeless to the pavement. I 
raised my eye to the spot whence it came — it was Anna’s 
form I there saw, bending over to behold the work she 
had done ; but at the same instant, even as I gazed upon 


02 


JTLIAX. 


her with both wonder and sorrow, a javelin from the 
hand of a Roman pierced her through, and she fell back 
upon the tiles. 

There was then, my mother, no longer any Caesarea 
for me ; and I flung myself from the place where, till then, 
I had remained, (that I might, in the event of the house 
being assailed, be at hand for the defence of Anna and her 
mother,) and mingled, as full of the spirit of revenge as 
any, in the thickest of the fight. But why should I now 
say more ? tliat soon happened, which I had been looking 
for. The news of the affray had been carried to Pilate— 
a legion was on the moment despatched to the Syna- 
gogue, and with its overwhelming force soon decided the 
contest. But I heeded not its presence, I knew it not. 
Blind with passion and grief, I fought madly, till, as I sup- 
pose, I fell senseless, through loss of strength and blood. 
I awoke in a Roman dungeon. I am in the hands of Pi- 
late. What the event will be I cannot foresee. If I 
perish, though thou wilt lose an unworthy son, yet is he 
one who, in whatever else he failed, failed never in his 
love of thee. I can now say no more. 

These lines I am permitted to place in the hands 
of Zeno, the Greek, trusting that he will despatch them 
speedily to Rome. Farewell. 


JULY A.!?. 


03 


V. 


Before this reaches yon, my mother, you will have 
neard of my safety ; which earlier knowledge you will 
owe to the friendship of the Greek, who, as he has said, 
— not as I believe, — simply because he had no other em- 
ployment, has not ceased to devote himself to my in- 
terests. It is solely too by reason of the friendship, 
which so strangely and suddenly he conceived for me, 
that I now find myself on the way to Beth-Harem, having 
liberty for bonds, the vault of the heavens above me for 
that of Pilate’s dungeon, life for death. I can never know, 
indeed, that Pilate would not in some other manner, — 
though Zeno had not interposed, — have obtained a 
knowledge of the circumstances to which I am beholden 
for my liberty. Zeno himself declares that it would 
certainly have been so; for that the governor, seeing 
how many lives had been already sacrificed, and that he 
might be called to account for that day’s confusion, would 
have gladly seized upon any pretext to set free his pris- 
oners, which yet it was by no means easy to do and 
preserve his own dignity and authority. However this 
may be, I can feel none the less my debt to the Greek, 
who has shown in these affairs, that however he may 
affect to have been moved in what he has done, by that 
restless temper that must be busy somewhere and about 
somewhat, he nevertheless possesses a heart which is not- 


JULIA!?. 


M 

only no stranger to kind affections, but overflows with a 
wide and generous humanity. 

My reflections, when, upon awaking out of the insen- 
sibility caused by the blows I had received, I found my- 
self in a Roman prison, all a vent to convince me that I 
should there end my days. I had been taken in arms 
against the reigning power ; and, though 1 had not been 
long in Caesarea, could probably easily be proved both 
to be a Jew, and to have been intimate with Philip and 
Simon, the leaders in the affray. Add to this the cir- 
cumstance, that my judge was Pilate, and you too will 
acknowledge, my mother, that my days must have 
seemed to me to be numbered. That certainly was my 
conviction. Yet was it not attended by any self-crimi- 
nation for the part 1 had taken, as I doubt not you will 
suppose it was, or for the cause in which, as it seemed, 
I had offered myself up. My heart approved what 1 
had done. I had stood up for the injured, the oppressed, 
and the weak. I had shown myself to be, what I had 
at length found myself to be, a Jew; — one who was 
ready not only to entertain an inward persuasion, but to 
carry it into outward act. Hours were days and months 
to me in that dark solitude, for the quickness with which 
truths revealed themselves to me, and struck their roots 
into my soul, and grew up into strength and maturity. 
I seemed, in my forlorn and hapless state, to be myself 
an emblem of my country, bound hand and foot, await- 
ing the sentence of death at the word of a tyrannic and 
irresistible power. My mind reviewed with pain my 
long alienation from the faith and worship of my fathers. 
My misfortune seemed to me a just judgment upon such 
mad apostasy, and I thenceforward devoted myself, 


JULIAN. 


05 


should my life be spared, to the welfare of my country, 
by such acts as should appear to me to be most for her 
advantage and glory. Thy early instructions, my 
mother, written upon the soft heart of my youth, had 
then sunk deep ; and now, in my silence and darkness, 
they revealed themselves and filled the place where I 
was with light. The history of our people, and of the 
care of Jehovah for them, of the good men and prophets 
who had taught and died for them, all passed before me ; 
and although I felt myself still to be ignorant and un- 
believing in much more than I knew and believed, 1 dis- 
covered that I knew and believed greatly more than but 
a little while before I could have supposed, and enough 
to make me a Jew in very deed. The prayers, also, 
which at thy side, or else seated on thy knee, I had in 
my infancy been taught to say, though for many a year 
they had not passed my lips, now unbidden returned, 
and again ascended a sacrifice, for thy sake I will believe, 
not rejected. I put not my trust, my mother in the 
righteousness of the thoughts and resolves, which per- 
chance the solitary fears of my dungeon, and the human 
dread of a sudden, and it might be cruel death by . 
the scourge or the cross, and not any love of what is 
good and right, may have prompted. That were a vain 
reliance. I dare not say as yet, that Rome and her se- 
ductions might not, were they soon to try me, easily 
uproot the virtue, that like a gourd has grown up in a 
night. May my newborn strength be spared such as- 
sault. , 

Thus was I, by the strange fortunes that had befallen 
me, again recreated a Jew. Yet was this, as I well knew, 
only so much a new hindrance in the way of pardon or 


JULIAN. 


Oft 

escape. Could I with truth have declared myself a 
Roman, there was not a doubt, that Pilate would, on 
the instant, have overlooked the natural ardor that had 
leagued me for the moment with the enemies of the 
state, seeing how I was bound to them by both the ties 
of friendship and of blood. As little doubt was there 
it seemed to me, that when he should discover, as upon 
examination he would, the manner in which I then stood 
affected, both toward Rome and Judea, there would be 
small hope of any other event than immediate death. 
Day after day did I lie in my dungeon, chained to a pil- 
lar of stone, awaiting with patience, and almost more 
than patience through the new spirit that had taken pos- 
session of me, what should befall. No sounds disturbed 
the current of my thoughts, — -which I have now declared 
to you what course they took, — save the regular ap- 
proach of the jailor with the portion of food which was 
allowed me, and the cries, as of those who suffered tor*- 
ture, or who lamented aloud their wretched bondage. 
The jailor was one who appeared native to the horrors 
of the place, and to be little different from the stone on 
which I lay, save that he possessed the power of going 
from place to place. I quickly learned to refrain from 
seeking news from one, who either replied neither by 
word nor sign ; or cursed me for my tribe and what he 
believed my crimes. Once only did he of his own ac- 
cord open his lips, and that was to declare, as he did 
with the laugh of a demon, 11 that that day, at the third 
hour, a score of Jew dogs, — their heads downwards, — 
would die on as many crosses at the city gates.” His 
care of me, he thought, would soon be at an end. I 
could not but ask if he knew who they were who were 


JULIAN. 


07 


to suffer. Hi 3 answer was in two words, as he drew the 
bolt of my door, “ Jew dogs.” The manner of this 
man made. me feel that there was a lower and more 
pitiable state than my own. I was happy to be myself 
rather than such an one. Nay, it seemed to me I would 
sooner be the spider or the toad that crawled over and 
around me. 

But all this was to have an end. The door of my 
prison was opened not many days after, not by my 
jailor, but by Zeno the Greek, crying out with rapid 
and noisy vociferation, that through the intervention of 
Procla I had at length obtained my freqflom, but on the 
condition that I should at once take my departure from 
Caesarea. 1 was as much amazed at the sight and sound 
of this man as if 1 had never known him ; for in the 
crowd of thoughts I had been so intently revolving con- 
cerning the past and the future, the image of the Greek 
had not once presented itself. Philip, Anna, and their 
mother had often been present to my thoughts, but not 
Zeno. Instantly, however, 1 remembered my former 
conclusions concerning him, and was at the same time 
conscious that as he was the only being in Caesarea, beside 
the Jews, to whom I was known, and who had it in his 
power to do me any service, so it must be to him I was 
indebted for this unlooked-for prospect of life and free- 
dom. I therefore greeted and embraced him as a friend 
and benefactor. He steadfastly reiterated what at first 
he had declared, that it was to the powerful intercession 
of Procla I was beholden for my present happiness, who, 
having heard an account of the way in which I became 
a party to the plans and movements of the J ews, and 
how I had joined at last in the tumult only through a 
Vol. I. — 9. o 


98 


JULIAN. 


momentary impulse to revenge; the death of my friends, 
pitied me, and besought Pilate for my release, — a mercy, 
which without much difficulty she obtained. But when 
I significantly asked from whom Procla could have de- 
rived her knowledge of me, a stranger in Csesarea, — all 
of my nation who had known me being dead, or at least 
dead to Procla, — he could not, he said, but admit that 
among others with whom he had conversed of me and 
the events which had taken place, was the wife of Pilate, 
who had confessed, after some things he had let drop, 
that she thought, rightly considered, I was innocent of 
any crime against either the power of the Procurator or 
the peace of the city, and ought to be set at liberty ; 
and so she would say to Pilate. I did not fail to make 
him feel, — notwithstanding the difficulty of ever obtain- 
ing an entrance between either his words or sentences, 
so as to declare an opinion, — I did not fail to make 
him at length understand, that I felt how it was to his 
humanity and undeserved friendship, I owed my deliver- 
ance. He impatiently listened to what I had to say, 
more than once breaking in with somewhat to the jailor, 
who was at the same time busy in knocking off my 
chains. Both these offices were, however, at length com- 
pleted, and we sallied forth from the prison into the 
light of day and the busy crowds of men. 

I now had time to ask Zeno after the events which 
had followed the tumult of that Sabbath day. It was 
but little he had to say in reply. The Jews were com- 
pletely routed and dispersed. When they found that to 
contend longer was useless, they gave way in all direc- 
tions, and made for the security of their homes. Al- 
most ail in this manner escaped from the Roman sol- 


JULIAN. 


09 


diery ; some, however, were seized and cast into prison, 
— a part of whom had already perished by cruel and 
lingering deaths. Upon inquiring after the mother of 
Anna and Philip and what had befallen her, Zeno re- 
plied, that no sooner was the work of destruction at the 
Synagogue completed, than the Greeks in a crowd, 
joined by many of the Roman soldiery, made for her 
dwelling and soon razed it to the ground, destroying 
also the walls of the garden, and whatever else there 
was on which they could lay their rude and violent 
hands. The widow herself, knowing in season of the 
intended assault, was concealed in the dwelling of a 
friend, and soon as the city became calm again, disguis- 
ing herself, fled for the dominions of Herod. 

I now yielded to the hospitable importunity of Zeno, 
and accompanied him to his house. This truly it w'as 
necessary for me to do, whether it liked, me or not, for 
with the dwelling of the wine merchant had been de- 
stroyed all that which it contained ; so that I could do 
no otherwise than take shelter beneath some friendly 
roof, till 1 should be able to repair my losses. And 
this too must be done with speed ; for, although Zeno 
had used all his eloquence to that end, he could obtain 
for me only till the following morning to make such 
preparations as should be needful, in order to my depar- 
ture and journey. Through the ready aid afforded by 
the Greek these preparations were soon completed, and 
before the sun had left his bed, on the day succeeding 
that of my deliverance, I bade farewell to Caesarea, and 
through its southern gate took my way into the sur- 
rounding country. A single camel was sufficient for 
such things as I desired to take with me, committed to 


100 


JTTLIAN. 


the charge of his driver, a Jew of Caesarea, well com- 
mended to me by Zeno for his knowledge of the road 
and his honesty. Zeno would not allow me to depart 
alone, but must needs, notwithstanding all the dissuasion 
I dared to use, accompany me a part of the way. Soon 
as the city gates were opened therefore we issued forth, 
plunging at once into the hilly region which stretches to 
the south of Caesarea. I had left the particular direction 
we should take to Zeno, being wholly ignorant, as you 
may suppose, my mother, of the country I was about to 
traverse, except that I had a general notion of the quar- 
ter where lay the Jordan, the Salt Sea, and Jerusalem. 

It was with no little satisfaction that, after a scene of 
so much violence as had lately passed in Caesarea, and 
events that had ended so disastrously to persons for 
whom, though known but for so short a period, I had 
conceived a sincere friendship, I found myself once more 
surrounded by nature alone, which is ever at peace. 
All sights and sounds at this early hour of the day, and 
this calm season of the year, were such as gave rise to 
healing thoughts. I had had enough and more than 
enough, for once, of what I have ever loved so well, 
strife and uproar ; and I greeted with a real and hearty 
welcome the new world into which I was now entering. 
The air was still, the earliest rays of the sun were just 
lighting up the highest peaks of Mount Carmel, a few 
clouds lay sleeping in the East, a peasant now and then, 
with his loaded mule or camel, passed us on his way to 
the markets of the Homan capital, while others were 
just emerging from their dwellings to commence the 
labor of the day, — these and the like objects were now 
before and around me, and I confess I found it to be no 


101 


JULIAN. 

unwelcome change after the days spent in Caesarea. 1 
rode on at first silently enjoying my new existence, 
without a thought of my companion, or of the way we 
were going ; and as a thing truly worthy of admiration, 
Zeno interrupted not my reveries, nor once uttered a 
word, till at length weary of myself and my thoughts, I 
asked him, if the camel driver were taking us on the 
most direct route to Beth-Harem, for it seemed to me 
that we were keeping too much to the sea. 

“It is hy no means,” replied my companion, enter- 
ing eagerly the door I had opened, “ the most direct 
way, but it is a safer way than any other ; and agrees 
by reason of its solitariness with the wish, which but 
yesterday you declared, to avoid, as much as might be, 
the more thickly peopled districts, seeing that you felt 
but little in the mood of mingling or conversing with 
any, — a poor temper truly for a traveller; for what 
shall he know more of a new people or country, than 
before he saw them, who keeps the company only of his 
own thoughts 1 lie may, indeed, publish the fact, that 
here he crossed a river, and there a mountain, and there 
passed through a city or a town, but of what the people 
are, who are of more account than hills or rocks, he will 
know no more than his mule. A country is but a 
larger city, and how, my young Hebrew, should I know 
the name and the affairs of every man in Caesarea, as 
praised be the gods I do, if I went about like thee, with 
a shut mouth and a frost-bitten visage. If thou wouldst 
know what is in man, the tongue is better than instru- 
ments of torture to find it out. Used with discretion, and 
as need shall be with cunning, and no corner of the heart 
shall keep its secrets. There be few in Caesarea, Greek, 
9 * 


102 


JULIAN. 


Jew, or Roman, biit by the use of this gift of nature I 
am familiar as well with their hearts as their faces. 
Pilate, the dark Pilate, hath not escaped me.” 

“How,” I asked, interrupting the stream of words, 
“have you approached the inaccessible Pilate?” 

“Pilate,” he replied, “ hath Procla, and Procla hath 
Cataphilus, and through these two Syracusan glasses, 
properly adjusted, do I read his soul. No man, not 
Pilate even, is -wholly himself; others possess a part, 
more or less ; he must let out into one car or another, 
else, as a wine-skin, would he burst with the inward fer- 
ment. So that by a careful spying, you without diffi- 
culty learn the way through one into another, and thus 
by direction or indirection do you obtain universal 
knowledge. The sight of a man, truly considered, is 
more in his tongue than his eyes; the sight, I say, that 
sees more than trees, clouds, or hills. But for thee, if 
thou wouldst travel secretly and unobserved, and with- 
out using thy true eyes, this way which we take is the 
better; and, as I said, it is also safer, and for that 
reason chiefly is it that I have chosen it out of many. 
There may be those in Caesarea who would gladly do 
thee an ill turn; for be it now known to thee, that in 
the affray at the Synagogue, at that moment when 
Philip and Anna fell, and thou didst then plunge into 
the thickest of the fight, many of the Romans, and some 
of consideration too, Greeks also as well as Romans, bit 
the dust ; and by many has thy life been with oaths de- 
voted. This way is therefore best for thee ; it lies 
among these hills of Megiddo, a part of the Carmel 
ridge as thou seest, and is least likely of any to have 
been chosen as the path to Beth-Harem. Here then 


JULtAN. 


103 


thou canst linger and muse at thy leisure, and dream or 
sleep. Yet before I leave thee should I say, that by 
and by, turning toward the east and leaving the hill 
country, thou wilt suddenly find thyself at the gates 
of Samaria ; but being a Jew, thou mayest not choose 
to pass among Samaritans.” 

Forgetting my new character, I informed Zeno with 
some little energy, that I was a Roman, and cared not 
whom I travelled among; — Jew and Samaritan were 
alike. At this he laughed heartily, amusing himself at 
great length, with the ease with which I was first a 
Roman, then a Jew, as the occasion or circumstances 
seemed to require. 

Thus we travelled on, Zeno having found me a 
listener again, and overwhelming me with a flood of 
words — till the sun was well up, and the chill air of the 
morning was giving way before the heats of an uncloud- 
ed Syrian day, when he declared that, with whatever re- 
luctance, he must part from me and return to the cooler 
retreats of the city. I commended to him the mother 
of Philip and Anna, should she ever seek again the pre- 
cincts of Caesarea, and besought him, if such a step 
would give her pleasure, to afford her every aid she 
might require to enable her to reach Rome, and take 
up her dwelling with my mother. This he promised to 
do ; and should such an event take place, 1 am sure, my 
mother, it will be grateful to thee as well as to myself. 
The Greek then turning his horse’s head, and giving me 
his best wishes and the blessing of his gods, was soon 
lost sight of, on his way to the city. I must confess a 
sadness' at his departure, notwithstanding he so often 
proved a vexation through the mass and the strangely 


104 


JULIAN. 


assorted varieties of matter, which without pause he 
would pour into any car that remained open. But 
what was a sensible relief under such inflictions was 
the circumstance, that he rarely required sign of assent 
or dissent on the part of the listener; it was enough 
if there were tokens of so much life as proved him to 
be awake. 

Being now left to myself, I took more note of the 
country through which my road lay, and of the nearer 
and more distant objects by which 1 was surrounded. 
It was a region very full of beauty of every sort ; and 1 
was not sorry, though I truly lamented the loss of the 
Greek as one who had befriended me, to be alone in the 
midst of it. Hills of considerable height, like the lower 
ridges of the Appenines, which here and there shoot out 
on either side to the Adriatic and the Tuscan seas, were 
on my right and left, some bare and rocky, but for the 
most part clothed with verdure, and showing, perched 
upon elevations far above the path I travelled, the 
dwellings of the inhabitants surrounded by their vine- 
yards, for which they win a place where to a stranger’s 
eye there seems little else than cliffs of rock. But 
wherever the ground opened, and the hills drew back a 
space, the cottages of the peasantry were thickly set to- 
gether, buried beneath the foliage of the rich, fruit- 
bearing trees of these climes, or encompassed by fields 
covered with the best products of the season, or by 
plantations of the olive and the fig. The tall and ma- 
jestic date tree was here and there to be seen overtop 
ping all others, and giving a sure sign of a neighboring 
habitation. But chiefly was the eye pleased with the 
vineyards, in which, as with us, the vines are led from 


J ULI A N. 


103 


tree to tree and shrub to shrub, where these natural 
supports are at hand, so forming a thousand shady 
retreats from the noon-day sun. 

Ihe vintage was already in progress, and descending 
the craggy steeps, or winding along the road, or stand- 
ing at the wine presses were mules and asses heavy- 
laden, and almost hidden from the sight, by the over- 
hanging burden of the red grapes of Judea. Merry and 
noisy with the wild songs of the country were many of 
the troops of laborers, as we met them coming and 
going with their fragrant loads. “ Peace be with you,” 
was the good wish often bestowed upon me with free 
gifts of the ripe fruit they were bearing along. All 
that met my sight or hearing was proof of a happy and 
contented people, for whom the earth yielded with 
bounty what was needful to their support, and between 
whom and a prosperity such as few lands could boast, 
no hindrance seemed to stand but this slavery to 
Rome ; this dependence not indeed so much on Rome 
as on her servants, who, oftener than is known to 
the powers at home, thrive by the oppression and 
injury of the subject province. More and more, my 
mother, the more I know and see of our tribe, do I find 
myself drawn to them. Not forever should a people 
like this dwell thus in subjection to a foreign power. 
Yet have they now continued for so many years subject 
in this manner to Rome, and so accustomed are they to 
the insults and injuries of a state of slavery, that they 
perceive not the evil of their condition ; just as the 
limbs long bound by chains come at length to be so 
hardened, that iron is as any other substance. Many 
have forgotten that they are slaves. So long have they 


10G 


JULIAN. 


borne the exactions of the tax-gatherer, that the) - see in 
him the messenger of a lawful power. Especially is 
this so among these hilly and remote regions, where 
they witness no other tokens of their dependent state 
besides the stated visitations of the publican; dwelling 
otherwise in security and peace, enjoying the religion 
transmitted to them by their fathers, and the various 
customs which distinguish them from every other 
people. 

When we had journeyed on several hours, and the 
heat had grown to be burdensome both to ourselves and 
our beasts, we looked around for a cool and pleasant 
spot, where we might shelter ourselves from the fierce 
rays of the sun, and obtain the rest and refreshment 
which were now greatly needed. This, after passing 
over a barren and sandy track, we soon found ; for upon 
leaving it and entering again beneath the dark shadows 
of some trees, which from their kinds denoted habita- 
tions at hand, we perceived not far before us, beneath a 
spreading mulberry, one of the humbler dwellings of 
which we had passed so many. No ray of the sun 
seemed to penetrate the high roof of the mulberry and 
some lofty palms that were stretched over it. The 
signs not of poverty, though the house was small and 
low, were before us, but of comfort that springs from 
simple habits of life, and natural wants which the fruit- 
ful earth abundantly supplied. At the door* turning 
the mill to the sound of their voices and that of a spring 
which tumbled from a rock at the side of the house and 
fell sparkling into a rude basin below, sat two young 
girls so separated from all other things by their labor, 
the noise of the stones, their music and laughter and 


JULIAN. 


107 


the tumbling rivulet, that our approach was not ob- 
served till we were quite near them, when suddenly- 
ceasing from their work, while one shrunk backward 
within the door of the cottage the other at once arose, 
and advancing toward me, besought me in reply to 
my inquiries for refreshment to alight and rest myself 
during the heats of the day, while herself and her 
sister would draw water for our beasts. I was not 
slow to accept her hospitable offers ; and in a few mo- 
ments more I was reposing in the cool shade at the door 
of the cottage, while our animals were turned loose 
to feed upon the wild shrubs, and quench their thirst at 
the spring, from which the sisters supplied the water in 
their large pitchers. As they performed this service, 
while no others made their appearance from the dwell- 
ing, nor did any others seem to be in its neighborhood, 
I asked if they dwelt alone. 

“ Not alone,” said the elder of the sisters, as she 
poured a fresh pitcher of water into the watering trough, 
“ yet almost alone, for mother we have none, and our father 
is gone up to the Feast where he strangely abides. Our 
brothers are in the field on the other side of yonder hill, 
where they gather the grapes. We shall not see them 
till the sun has fallen. So it is, Sir, every day ; we are 
at home, but the rest are for the most part away at their 
labor.” 

I asked at what feast their father was absent, and 
where. 

“Truly,” replied the girl with a look of simple sur- 
prise, “ I thought you had been one of us.” 

“ Perhaps I am,” I rejoined, “ yet still I know not 
where your father can be gone.” 


109 


J U 1 2 A K . 


“If,” she replied with hesitation and confusion, “ von 
were a Jew, as assuredly I should judge you were from 
your countenance, you coukl not he ignorant, that the 
great Feast hath just passed, the Feast of the Harvest, 
at which it behoves every good Israelite to go up to Je- 
rusalem, whither my father is gone, but whence ere this 
he should have returned.” 

“ The hills,” cried out Ziba the camel driver, “ be- 
tween this and the city, be full of robbers. It calls for 
good courage and good arms to go through in safety.” 

“ Our father hath both,” replied the daughter, “ and we 
do not fear.” 

“But what,” rejoined the camel driver, “hath thy 
father, a Samaritan, to do at Jerusalem'? I doubted 
to rest here — but” — 

“ Fear not,” said the girl, “ we are not of Samaria but 
Judea ; but were it not so, the -water of the spring could 
not harm thee or thy cattle.” 

“ That may be,” replied Ziba, “ or may not be ; when 
a people are left of God, it is reason that neither their 
water nor their grain is wholesome.” 

The girl at this laughed heartily as she said, “ Our 
grain is grown indeed partly on the soil of Samaria ; be- 
ware of the cakes I shall now bake, lest they choke thee, 
or change thee to a Samaritan or a Devil. But rest you 
now while we make ready some food.” 

Saying this, the sisters retreated within the cottage, 
bearing with them the meal they had been grinding, and 
while 1 slumbered through weariness and the heat, — it was 
about the fifth hour, — they prepared hot cakes of wheat 
and barley, milk, cheese, and honey, of which, when re- 
stored by sleep, we partook w ith many thanks for the 



JULIAN. 


109 


great refreshment. When this was over, and Ziba was 
employing himself in making ready the animals for our 
further journey, many questions were asked concerning 
the late troubles in Caesarea, a rumor of which, both go- 
ing beyond and falling short of the truth, had reached 
this lodge in a wilderness. “ W e hear,” said the sisters, 
“ that great numbers of our people were slain. But as 
we judge from what we know, the Jews were over hasty, 
and put themselves needlessly in the way of danger. 
Alas ! we have ever been a people fond of quarrel.” 

“ But,” said I, “ do you suffer no burdens which are 
hard to bear, bound on you by this Roman power? 
And may not the slave turn on the tyrant who treads 
him under foot ? What say your father and brothers, 
when the publican comes with his Roman warrant for 
the fruit of your labors, which goes not to the treasury 
at Jerusalem, but to Pilate’s coffers, or across the great 
sea to Rome?” 

They replied, “ Ah, Sir, but then we live in peace in 
our homes, and enough is left whereon to subsist. Pro- 
phets have dwelt in poverty, and why should such as we 
care to be rich? And, besides, if we paid not our, taxes 
to the Romans we should pay not less to some governor 
of our own at Jerusalem. Our father says, that our own 
people, when they have held the power, have been as 
hard as Rome. Our brothers think not so indeed ; they 
are ever crying out for freedom, and think that to be de- 
livered from Rome and Pilate would be freedom ; while 
our father tells them it would rather be anything else.” 

“Thy father,” cried Ziba, “if no Samaritan is worse 
than a Samaritan, being, as he is a dog of Herod, the 
slave of a slave, on whom may all curses light.” 

Vol. I. — 10 


110 


J C LI AN. 


“ Thy tongue,” cried the girl, inflamed with sudden 
passion, “is false as Gehazi’s ; and take heed lest his lep- 
rosy cleave to thee. My father is no slave of Herod, 
and no traitor in act or thought. Were all Jews such 
as he, then might we rule ourselves. But it is, as he 
says, because of the rotten heart of the people, that it is 
needful we be in bondage to Rome or some other power. 
It is for our sins that it is so, and must be so. Besides, 
Sir,” turning to me, “ we have ever found a friend in Pro- 
cla, the wife of Pilate, to whom we yearly carry up our 
country wine and the choicest of our fruits.” 

“Ah hah,” cried Ziba, “now doth thine own mouth 
condemn thee.” 

“ I beseech thee,” said the girl, addressing me, “ re- 
buke thy slave; his tongue offends. We are none the 
less Jews because of the favors of Procla. There are 
none than we more zealous in every custom of our f& 
thers. But we may be Jews and still believe that a Ro- 
man hath a heart as well as we. If it seem strange, that 
we, though so distant, do know the wife of Pilate, it 
chanced with her, as with thee, to rest here with her at- 
tendants, as for her greater pleasure she took this more 
secret way, — and to those who love the face of the earth, 
this more pleasant way, — to Jerusalem ; Pilate himself 
passing through Samaria. When we saw her, we learned 
that the Gentiles were not all such as at the synagogues 
we were told, but that the God of the Jews is also the 
God of the Gentiles, and has set his image in them. 
For, Sir, surely never was there in woman a gentler soul 
than Procla’ s, — nay not our mother’s, — and that is much 
to say, too much it w'ould seem, I doubt not, to those 
who know her only. Spite of thy slave, we hope and 


JULIAN. 


Ill 

shall say so, that no evil befel the wife of Pilate in the 
fight of Caesarea — for the whole city we have heard was 
in arms, and many slain on either side.” 

I assured her that no evil had befallen her, and im- 
parted a greater pleasure still, when I said that I 
myself, though I knew her not, had been beholden to 
her for my liberty. 

As I said this the younger sister exclaimed, “ Sec, 
another traveller approaches, he is in good time. The 
cakes are yet hot upon the hearth.” 

At the same moment emerging from a pathway 
among the surrounding shades, in a direction as if he 
had come from the sea, appeared the traveller ; appar- 
ently oppressed as we had been by the heats of the 
mountain passes or leafless plains. After the wish of 
peace had been exchanged, the stranger was at once be- 
sought by the elder sister to come with his horse to the 
spring, and himself to alight and partake of the simple 
fare which still covered the board, — an offer not to be 
refused ; indeed, which was gladly accepted. My at- 
tention was at once fixed upon the new comer, for his 
whole appearance was remarkable. The signs of wealth 
were many and great, in the horse he rode and his trap- 
pings, and in his own dress ; but these, though they 
caught the eye first, were at once forgotten in the 
greater power of his countenance and form, which in- 
stantly made the beholder conceive of him as one raised 
above others by birth and condition, or his own natural 
force. He was in the midway of life or beyond. His 
eye, of a deep and penetrating glance, seemed not only 
to see what it fell upon, but to pass into it and through 
it, not as if with any injurious intent, but because simply 


112 


JULIAN. 


it had that power. His color was as dark as that of the 
Jews ever is in this hot climate, — darker than we often 
sec in Rome, except in those who have just crossed the 
sea, — his beard of a just length and black. These things 
I at once noted as he saluted me with the others, and 
conversed with the sisters. I would willingly have re- 
mained, but as when he arrived I, with Ziba, was just 
on the point of departure, I could not well do so, and 
therefore inquiring first the distance and the direction to 
the tomb of Ahab on the outskirts of Samaria, I was 
about to set forth, when the stranger said that as he was 
pursuing the same road to the same place, he would ac- 
company and direct me, if that would give me pleasure. 
I was not slow to accept the proffered service, and when 
resting but for a few moments he had partaken of some 
fruit and wine, we bade farewell to our entertainers and 
betook ourselves to the road. 

W hen I first turned to where the young Jewess had 
pointed, and beheld my companion as he issued from 
the dark wood, it had seemed to me, as often happens, 
as if the same event had once taken place before, or, as 
if a dream had suddenly come to pass. As he ap- 
proached and 1 beheld him nearer, I did not doubt that 
1 had in some place and at some time before seen him. 
In a single moment more the truth was plain, that I 
looked once again upon the Jew horseman of Caesarea, 
who, more like an apparition, — even like the terrible 
horseman that of old in the temple fell upon the royal 
thief, Heliodorus, — than a reality, had risen from the 
earth, and for a time turned the tide of battle. It was 
with great joy that I found myself persuaded of this 
truth, for it could not bo but that such an one must be 


JULIAN. 


1 13 


of power among the Jews, and fitted to give me ail the 
knowledge and counsel 1 could need or desire. At first 
it did not appear reasonable he should have on his part 
any knowledge of me, but when I considered that from 
what Zeno had let fall, as well as from the manner in 
which my weapon and my body had been hacked, l had 
been long and fiercely engaged in the fight, — though in 
some sort beside myself, — it seemed to me not unlikely 
that he also might have some recollection of me, which 
was made certain almost by the manner in which his 
eye now and then fell upon me, as we rode on, and was 
again quickly withdrawn. I, therefore, soon as an occa- 
sion would allow, turned our discourse upon Caesarea, 
asking him whether he had now just left that city. lie 
replied, that, “as l had seen, he came not immediately 
from that direction. ITe had last come from Anti- 
patris; but since he was in Caesarea, he had journeyed 
to the north as far as Sepphoris; but Herod having sud- 
denly left that place, whom he had hoped to find present, 
he had not remained, but withdrawn at once to the sea 
coast.” 

“ You have not been idle,” I rejoined, “ since the affair 
in Caesarea, when this same horse bore you against the 
centurion and his troop at the moment the brave Philip 
was cut down.” 

“ 1 too am right, then,” replied the stranger, “ in sup- 
posing thee to be the young madman who broke loose 
at the same moment, but driving headlong and blindly 
into a mass of the Greeks was quickly overpowered and 
pinioned. 1 marvel to see you among the living, having 
once been within reach of Pilate.” 

1 then gave him an account of the manner in which I 
10* ii 


114 


JULIAN. 


had been so fortunate as to escape from his power ; and 
m my turn asked him by what chance he had happened 
to come up at the unexpected conjuncture he did, and 
by what means, when the odds were so great against 
him, he had been able to effect his retreat. 

“ As soon,” he replied, “ as I heard of the intended 
outrage upon our people in Gesarea, I resolved to be 
there to stand by them as I might. I could not, how- 
ever, reach the place till the morning of the Sabbath 
when the assault took place ; when, having no means of 
learning what was to be done on the part of the Jews, 
— the fight, indeed, was already begun, — 1 could only 
rush upon the scene in the manner I did, and with such 
followers as, with but brief notice, I could persuade to 
join me. I fought till the coming of a fresh legion of 
the Roman power made longer resistance to be certain 
destruction or captivity, without any attending advan- 
tage, when with the rest of our unhappy countrymen I 
fled ; and while they took shelter in the bye ways of 
the city and their dwellings, I, borne by my good Arab, 
passed the gates, and soon gained the neighboring hills.” 

“ But why,” I asked, “ as you made toward the cen- 
turion gave you that warning — to save a life you your- 
self were about to take !” 

“For the reason,” he replied, “that even as I would 
not that child of mine should do the deed of Judith or 
Deborah, so did it grieve me that Anna a child of 
Sameas should, whom I had known and loved as a 
daughter. Neither was I willing that a brave Roman 
should die the death of a dog. Yet how knew I but it 
was the Lord’s doing? And who was I to binder, or 
defend? Wherefore gave 1 forth that uncertain voice, 


JULIAN. 


115 


which, if the Lord so pleased, the man should compre* 
hend, and so be saved for a more worthy death with me 
hand to hand, a fate 1 should have soon dealt out to him. 
It pleased the Lord that he should die as a fool dies, 
by the hand of a woman.” 

“ And it was to revenge her death ” I said, “ that I 
threw r myself into the fight, which otherwise I should 
have shunned ; for i deemed it needlessly provoked.” 
As I said these last words, the eye of my companion 
fell upon me with a meaning quite different from its 
former expression, and w r hich showed that dark passions 
were lodged within. 

“ IIow sayest thou ?” he bitterly asked — u needlessly 
provoked ? Is the life of a Jew' nought, and his faith 
nought? Shall he at the wmrd of a Roman give up 
both? Is he forever to be the sport of the tyrant? 
Are his only words to be, here is my neck for thy foot, 
and my throat for thy knife? Verily 1 thought thou 
wast a Jew also. Why then didst thou fight to revenge 
the death of a Jew'ess? What was she to thee?” 

“ She was much to me,” I said, “ as was her mother 
—even as for two w'eeks and more I had dw'elt beneath 
their roof, and in that short time had I come to love her 
as a sister. And it was to revenge her death, and not 
because I could justify the revolt of the Jew r s, that I 
joined the fight. Yet do I not, in saying this, admit 
that I am no Jew'. I am now a Jew, if I was not in 
Rome whence I am but lately come, and it was because 
1 had become a Jew', that I w ithstood Philip and his ad- 
herents to the last, as more mad than wise. They w r ere 
as men driven by their passions, and seeking their own 
revenge rather than their country’s good.” 


110 


JULIAN, 


At this the Jew horseman looked at me as if he 
hardly understood me, notwithstanding his far-reaching 
and all embracing eyes. A calm again came over him, 
and in the tones of his former conversation Jie said, “ I 
perceive, young man, there is virtue in thee. Abjure 
thy Rome a little longer, and dwell among thine own 
people, and thou wilt grow to be worthy of thy great 
descent. But the Roman Jew, as I take thee to be, 
is no Jew.” 

1 said that it was my purpose to see the whole of the 
land, in its length and breadth, from Dan to Beersheba, 
and from Arabia to the shores of the Sea, ere I again re- 
turned to Rome; and but for the interruption of my 
plans occasioned by the tumults of Caesarea, I should 
Iv>ng since have been at Beth-Harem, whither I Avas now 
bound, and whence, after abiding there a space, 1 should 
set forth on my Jewish travels. 

“Whom seek you at Beth-Harem?” asked the 
stranger ; “ for I myself dwell there, and will guide you 
on the way.” 

I said I sought the dwelling of Onias a prince, as I 
was told, of that country. 

“ None so well as I,” he quickly replied, “ can take 
you to his dwelling, for I am Onias of Beth-IIarem.” 

At this unlooked-for announcement, I was amazed as 
you may well suppose, my mother, and could only say 
in return, “that 1 then was his nephew, Julian of Rome, 
the son of Naomi.” 

Not less astonished, than I, was thy brother in his 
turn, lie welcomed me heartily to the land of our 
Fathers, and would not doubt that, when I had dwelt 
for a time beneath his roof I should take too deep root 


JULIAN. 


117 


in the soil ever to flourish again in that of Italy. lie 
asked with great affection after your welfare, and 
wished that you too had undertaken your travels to the 
East. For a long time we conversed of the condition 
and welfare of our family, dispersed as it is so widely in 
Italy, Greece, Egypt, and Syria. lie ended with say- 
ing, that he trusted ere long that events of such a kind 
would take place in Judea, as to call back all wanderers 
and residents in foreign lands to their native soil ; new 
scenes were about to unfold. 

Since leaving the cottage among the hills, where wo 
had been so hospitably entertained, we had journeyed 
on through a richer and more highly cultivated soil. 
Although the region was still hilly, and rocks were to 
bo seen jutting out on the sides of the hills, yet was 
there no spot to be discerned from their base to their 
summits, which did not bear testimony to the labors of 
the husbandman, and was not burdened with the pro- 
ducts of the latter harvest. Villages on all sides, 
wherever the eye could reach far around, were seen 
half buried amongst the dense foliage of these regions, 
and the highways everywhere filled with the heavy 
wains, drawn by oxen or bulls, and laden with fruits 
and grain. Never had I beheld a region that gave 
better proof of industry and skill on the part of the in- 
habitants; or where the population appeared to enjoy 
more of the common comforts of life. We were still 
winding along among valleys of utmost beauty and fer- 
tility, when as the hills on the north began to open, 
Onias said, that we were now within the territory of 
Samaria, which, for his own part, he would gladly have 


118 


JULIAN. 


avoided ; but seeing, as he judged, that I should feel dc« 
sirous to pass by a place so famous as the city of that 
name, he had departed from the course which he was 
accustomed to pursue when he crossed over from the 
sea to Beth-IIarem. “ Soon,” said he, “ as we reach 
yonder hillock on the summit of which you can already 
see the ruins of the tomb of Ahab, will you obtain 
a view of the city.” 

In a few moments we stood on the place to which he 
had pointed. The ruins of what had been a Structure 
of some magnificence covered the spot, over which 
tow'ered palms and cypresses. Before us and below us 
lay the city, built upon an elevation of an oval form in 
the midst of an extensive plain, bounded on all sides by 
a circle of hills. We ourselves -were upon a part of the 
southern range which thus hemmed it in. At a distance 
were visible, toward the sea, the tops of Carmel, and 
toward Galilee Mount Tabor, towards the Jordan Her- 
mon and Gilboa, and behind us Gerizim and Ebal ; 
while in the north, like the light clouds that were above 
us, we could just discern the snow r y peaks of Lebanon. 
The city glittering beneath the rays of the sun, then not 
far above the horizon, gave unexpected tokens, in both 
the extent of the walls and the overtopping structures 
within, of its extent and the wealth of its inhabitants. 
I expressed to Onias my delight and surprise. 

“ What you see,” he replied, “ is the work of Herod ; 
not, as you may believe, of those half-idolaters. Herod 
wanting a stronghold here in the heart of the land, re- 
built Samaria, which, since the destruction of it by 
Hyrcanus, had lain in ruins. Now, by reason of the 
immense sums which Herod expended in the building 


JULIAN. 


m 

of the walls, and in erecting temples and theatres with 
in, and especially because of the multitudes of new 
inhabitants, Greeks, Jews, and Romans, whom he com- 
pelled to remove thither, it is grown to be a place of 
some consequence, but not of so much as its foolish in- 
habitants are fain to believe. They are a bastard race. 
Upon a Gentile stock have been grafted decayed and 
rotten branches from all parts of the earth, so that there 
is as little of the blood of the Jew in a Samaritan, as 
there is of the true faith of a Jew in his doctrine. 
Come on, let us give them our backs. May their pros- 
perity decrease daily.” 

I would willingly have lingered longer on a spot so 
agreeable in itself, and which spread out before the be- 
holder so wide and beautiful a prospect. Inwardly re- 
solving at some future time to return and examine at 
my leisure a country that seemed to offer so much to 
reward the observer, I followed Onias, and Samaria was 
soon hidden again behind hills and woods. 

“ Sebaste,” said Onias abruptly as we resumed our 
journey, “Sebaste is the name which Samaria now 
bears, given to it by that flatterer Ilerod; a Roman 
name to a Jewish town — as ill sorted as a born Jew 
with a Roman name. What ill chance gave thee the 
name of Julian'?” 

My father, I answered, would have it so, who, he 
might know, was no lover of his own race. 

“ I might have guessed as much,” replied Onias ; 
“Rome weaned him from Judea. And when Rome 
spoiled him of his Jewish nature, it w rought a greater 
ruin than sometimes when it spoils a kingdom. Thy 
father w'as born for greater things than he ever per- 


120 


JULIAN. 


formed. His days were passed in amassing wealth; 
they should have been spent at the head of armies.” 

“ So,” said I, “is it ever the nature of the more pow- 
erful to draw everything over to itself. The greatness, 
splendor, and renown of Rome, dazzle the young mind 
and easily take it captive. It was but a little while 
since, that to be known to be a Jew, was to me the great 
affliction of life. In truth, the shame of my descent 
has been to me the only evil I have suffered from my 
birth. Wealth could satisfy every wish of my heart, 
but it could not cause me to be born again ; it could 
not change the hue of my skin, nor the features of the 
face.” 

“ Happy for thee, Julian, that a power higher than 
thyself ruled over thee and saved thee. Judea needs 
thee ; and I trust to see thee answer to her call.” 

I said, that I was now bent upon knowing the exact 
state of the country, that I might learn what part it 
became me to act. I could not in Cajsarea take sides 
with Philip, because as I judged, he was over hasty, and 
outwent the judgment of the people at large, whereby 
he injured rather than benefited a good cause. 

“ Nevertheless,” rejoined my Uncle, “ it was a sign of 
the times, and showed what is in the heart of the Jews. 
What happened in Caesarea would have happened also 
in Jericho, in Sychar, in Bethsaida, nay, even in Sama- 
ria ; for so much may be said for Samaritans, that they 
love not Rome, but look, even as we do, for a deliver- 
ancc from her dominion, and for a Deliverer. Julian, 
the time ripens ! The wise and the good of our land, 
with impatience await what shall ere long bo made 
manifest.” 


JULIAN”. 


m 

Onias said this in deep and significant tones. I hoped 
that he would go on, but he paused. 

I then said, “ that even in Rome I had heard some- 
what of that concerning which he spoke; but it was 
little and uncertain, and I knew not what to think. 
From my mother 1 had heard of a day of deliverance 
to which our tribe looked forward, and of the coming of 
Messiah ; but of what w'as truth and what was error, in 
such expectations, I knew nothing. Philip too had 
spoken cf the same things. But, to me, it all seemed 
doubtful and baseless, without anything certain and 
fixed, to which the mind could attach itself; — while that 
Judea w as an oppressed and degraded kingdom, that her 
rights were withheld, her sceptre unrighteously w'rested 
from her grasp, her liberties gone, w r ere things that 
every eye could see ; and the remedy for such evils not 
difficult to be devised, nor out of all hope to be carried 
into execution.” 

Onias, at this, looked upon me with an expression not 
easy to interpret. But words soon followed. 

“Young man,” said he, “your speech is both pious 
and impious. The piety, I believe, is your own ; the 
impiety is your father’s. Had God forsaken you as 
your father did, you had now' been altogether as one of 
the Gentiles. But He has watched over and redeemed 
you for ends greater than you now know of. When 
once beneath the roofs of Beth-Harem, I shall trust to 
weed out the errors that now offend thy mind, and plant 
in their place the seeds of truth. There be others there 
also, men learned in our laws, at whose feet a willing 
disciple shall drink in wisdom as water.” 

Onias, as he said these w r ords fell back into himself, 
VOL. I. .11 


122 


JULIAN. 


as I perceive he is ever prone to do, and we continued 
our way in silenee. 

The shadows of evening were now around us, and we 
were travelling still among the hills that stretch to the 
east and south of Samaria, but not in solitudes, for the 
country was everywhere thickly peopled, and the ways 
were yet filled with travellers to and from Samaria, and 
with the peasants of the neighboring places, returning 
home with empty or loaded wagons. I was looking to 
keep on our journey during the early part of the night, 
and reach the Jordan at least, before we slept ; but my 
uncle now informed me that a little distance beyond 
where we were, we should arrive at the Inn of Jael nigh 
unto Thebez, where we should rest, for our beasts’ sake, 
until the following day. 

While he was speaking we emerged from the hills 
and woods, and descended the last slope which conducted 
us to the plains. As we thus descended, Mount Iler- 
mon was before us, over which the moon was just 
climbing ; and beneath us lay the valley of the Jordan 
stretching to the horizon, covered with its villages, the 
nearer of which were clearly visible, with groves of the 
palm intermingled, sending their lofty tops to the heav- 
ens. I was too much engrossed by the beauty of the 
scene to think of my companion ; and we rode on, each 
pursuing his own thoughts, till we approached the Inn 
of Jael. This we found thronged already by those who 
had come to seek shelter for the night ; for, at this season 
of the year, although a fierce heat is apt to rage through 
the day, the air becomes cold at night, and heavy dews 
descend, so that the covering of a roof or of a tent is ne- 
cessary. We at first believed there could be no room for 


jcliast. 


123 


us. the concourse of strangers was so great, the court- 
yards being crowded with their beasts and their lading, 
and the apartments and the roofs with their owners and 
attending slaves. But no sooner did Jael discover who 
was his guest than the room, which had been refused 
us by some to whom we had first applied, was quickly 
furnished. We were conducted to the roof where, a 
tent being spread over us, we partook of our evening 
meal and prepared to rest for the night. 

When we had supped, and I then sat looking off upon 
the surrounding country and conversing, Jael, our host, 
joined us with low* obeisances and .formal speech. Ho 
hoped that the great Onias had returned in peace. All 
the country had lamented his absence. It was many days, 
and seemed months, since he had bestowed upon his 
poor dwelling the honor of his presence. 44 I learn,” 
said he, 44 that thou hast been beyond Sepphoris even to 
Sidon.” 

44 Farther than that, Jael,” replied Onias, “ even as 
far as Antioch and Edessa. What hast thou heard from 
Beth-IIarem of late; are all well 1” 

44 All are well,” replied Jael ; 44 to-day a traveller from 
the East, and who had passed through the midst of Beth- 
IIarem, reported, as from those who had knowledge, 
that all were well in the house of Onias. — Thou wast 
not, then, at the outbreak at Gesarea, where the mad- 
cap Philip, son of Sameas, threw all the city into a 
blaze.” 

My uncle frowned as he said, 44 Jael, thy soul is too 
much in thy purse. The Lord reward thee not accord* 
ing to thy zeal for him ; for thy lot were theii truly but 
as that of the wicked.” . . 


124 


JULIAN. 


“ Should I,” said Jael quickly, “ plough up a wheat 
field thick with full and milky ears only to try a better 
seed ? Should I shave this beard in hope that a come- 
lier one might sprout ? Should I take out a bill against 
my wife that I might win perchance a better ? My 
beard is well enough, my wife is well enough, my wheat 
is well enough. Ah, what shall come of change and 
commotion but losses? Who suffer now? None but 
rogues and mischief makers. Who”~ 

“ I will not reason with thee,” said my uncle with im- 
patience. “ It is well for Judea that some souls are 
made of other stuff.” 

“ In my belief,” continued Jael, “ the Jews of Caesarea 
were dealt with after their deserts. A mail now-a-days 
can live scarce a day in peace for these sons of Belial; 
But the blood let in Caesarea may keep it cool in Jeru- 
salem, so shall good come of it. Hast thou heard the 
news here on the Jordan, Onias? If we now bestir 
ourselves, we may do greater things than they in Caesa- 
rea.” 

“ What mean you ?” said my uncle. 

“I speak,” said Jael, “of John of Hebron, who hath 
taken pains to travel beyond the Jordan, and up and 
down in that region, some say, stirring up the people, 
but others only preaching. But who can stir the people 
more than he who preaches ? The ears of the council 
or of Herod I trust will be open to take note of 
him.” 

“ But what mean you ?” said Onias, “ and of whom do 
you speak ? Jest not after thy fashion.” 

“ I speak truly but what I hear,” replied Jael, “ and 
jest not. I have not seen this wanderer myself ; but 


JULIAN. 


1 c ") 

have heard somewhat from every one who hath come 
from beyond Jordan. Some even hold him a prophet; 
but it were nearer a truth, I doubt not, to hold him pos- 
sessed of a devil. Prophets do not grow on every 
bush.” 

“ How is he followed?” asked mj uncle. 

“From far and near,” answered Jael, “have people 
resorted to him, some even from Jerusalem. But that 
makes for nothing, seeing that they of Jerusalem arc 
ever running after some new thing.” 

“ What,” continued Onias, “ is the manner of his life 
and appearance ?” 

J ael could not say. lie had heard a thousand varying 
accounts from travellers, but knew not which were true 
nor which were false. His belief was that he was one 
in part beside himself, and who was therefore just the 
kind of adventurer to amaze and seduce the people. With 
the help of a few' magic arts, he would soon make him- 
self great. 

The vociferations of new comers, now calling loudly 
upon Jael, put an end to our discourse ; our host de- 
scended with reluctance to perform some of the duties 
of his office, and soon after, closing the folds of our tent, 
we fell asleep. 

11 * 


120 


jxMimr, 




Fatigued by reason of our journey of the preceding 
day, the sun was far advanced into the heavens before 
the noise of the inn-yard woke us from our slumbers, 
and we were ready for the pleasing labor yet before us. 
Crowds of travellers, in not more haste than ourselves, 
surrounded the gate-ways with their camels, asses, and 
other beasts of burden; some quarrelling with Jael on 
account both of their entertainment, and the sum he had 
demanded of them ; some with each other about some 
idle distinction of nation or tribe ; while a large number 
pursued in quiet their own affairs, or looked on and 
laughed at those, who, because life did not present 
enough of necessary evils, were seeking to multiply 
them. Jael moved among them a sort of monarch, 
from the power he possessed, not over others, but over 
himself, therefore indeed, over others also. lie was not 
to be ruffled by any of the reproaches, which, whether 
justly or not, were showered upon him. Those who had 
abused him most he did not fail to dismiss from his do- 
minions with some wish of peace, while from them he 
received, perhaps, only curses in return. 

“ Jael,” said Onias, as we stood beneath the shadow 
of a plane-tree, watching the scene, while Ziba was mak- 
ing the last preparations ; “ Jael is a man who lives for 
liimself alone. Though you behold,, him so pliant, and 


JULIAN. 


127 


so prompt to please and serve, and so patient under 
what seem undeserved reproaches, he is yet as void of 
faith, both toward man and God, as this pomegranate- 
shell is of meat. Ilis aim is but one, his purse. And 
to fill this in the best manner he justly thinks, is to 
attract by his attentiveness and submissiveness to all, 
people of all names and nations, — Jew, Samaritan, Arab,, 
or Roman, it is the same to Jael, and Jael is the same 
to them. lie is just to one, as soon as to another ; and 
will defraud one as soon as another. In what proportion 
he is knave, and in what honest, no one knows. When 
I am on this road, and weary with the way, my feeling 
is, and doubtless it is so with all, “ here now shall I be 
certain of such observances as hardly my best friend 
could lavish upon me ; and I approach the roof of Jael 
as if it were another Beth-IIarem. Behold there ! how 
to that churlish Greek he returns smiles and parting salu- 
tations for railing.” He then approached us as if for 
some further discourse, but we at the same moment 
mounting our beasts and bidding him farewell, he only 
wished us well on our way, and we sallied forth from the 
yard. 

“ The sun shines not more constantly,” said Onias, as 
we plunged into some deep, thick shadows, beneath 
which the road here wound along, “ than the face of Jael ; 
but while the sun shines for others, Jael shines only for 
himself Ilis smiles were frowns, unless each drew fish 
of some sort to his net, birds of some sort to his snare. 
He perceives no difference between Roman, Greek, Jew, 
and Samaritan, but as they contribute more or less to 
his wealth, which grows and swells like Jordan in the 
early rains. Though the land now lie cursed and barren, 


128 JULIAN. 

and the enemies of the people of God rise up around her, 
and dwell within her very borders, carrying her not away 
into captivity, but binding her a captive on her own soil, 
not a finjjer would this man move for her deliverance. 
Nay, rather, I doubt not, would he league himself with 
the adversary, than that the base traffic should suffer 
damage, which fills his hands with gold. And many 
such there be here, and over the face of the whole land, 
so that were Messiah himself to come, I surely think 
they would deny him, except he came in Caesar’s name. 
Saw you not last night his manifest Vexation at the re- 
ports brought from the Jordan V ’ 

“It was evident enough,” I replied, “that he liked 
them not. They foreboded in his ear a new uproar as 
in Caesarea. But in these rural districts there could be 
little danger.” 

“I know not that,” answered Onias; “the people lie 
thickly sown among these deep shades ; we see them not, 
but they are for multitude like the ripe seed of the mus- 
tard shaken by the winds from the tree. A great cause 
would call them up in hosts not easily numbered. And 
a slight cause rouses them. For if many be of Jael’s 
nature, more are not. The ears of the people are wide 
open to any sound of liberty. The ridel's, as is ever with 
those who enjoy power, are indeed of another mind. 
Change could do little for them in the best event, and 
might shake them from their seats. But the people do 
yearn, even as the hungry for food, for the approach of 
some power that shall raise them to their ancient place. 
They await its coming with impatience.” 

“ They will then,” I said, “ flock around this prophet 


JULIAN. 


129 


on the Jordan ; if he he one in truth. Yet we perceive 
no signs of it.” 

“There are not a few,” rejoined my uncle, “who, 
moved by what they deem a divine impulse, go forth to 
teach and declare in the streets and highways, in wild 
and desert places, what they might as well deliver within 
the walls of the synagogue. These now cease to stir the 
people. He, of whom Jael spoke, seems to be of this 
order. There will be other signs, — another approach, 
when He shall come. Time will unfold what it shall.” 

Onias here withdrew* into himself, buried in thought, 
of which he seemed to desire no participator. So wo 
then rode along in silence together on our way but 
soon wearying of this, I left my uncle to his reflections, 
and turned back to where Ziba was slowly toiling along 
with his heavy-laden camel, that I might hold discourse 
with him. As I reached him he was singing at the top 
of his voice a song in praise of the wines of Judea; but 
soon as I joined him he broke off, saying, “ that by the 
song he was singing he was trying to lose the taste of 
the vile drink that had been served to him by the rogue 
Jael, which was more sour than the visage of Ben-Ezra 
of Caesarea. Truly, those maids in the woods knew 
how to deal with a stranger, camel-driver though he 
was. They were no Samaritans after all, that was cer- 
tain. Their wine was sweet as a dried grape, and it 
was poured out like w'ater. JaeFs, indeed, was in abun- 
dance enough, but what signifies an abundance of that 
which cannot be swallow'ed. Yet would he stand by 
and commend it as fit for kings, and sweeter than wines 
of Greece or Italy, with such oaths and smiles, too, that 
one was ready to give the lie to his own burning throat. 


130 


JULIAN. 


Well, well, wait awhile, and the poorest of us will have 
better wine than the best of Jael’s.” 

“ How so ? shall you all turn vine-dressers ? or what 
is to happen ?” 

“What is to happen! A Jew! and you know not 
that! You may hear it every day with your ears open. 
Things are not to remain as they are. Some new king- 
dom is to be set up, some say under Herod of Galilee. 
So the Ilerodians, most of them, think. As others 
judge, he who is to reign is yet, and shortly too, to 
make his appearance, but how or whence, no one knows, 
or can know. But why do I tell you this, when you 
are yourself, I doubt not, a scribe at least. Yet, me- 
thinks, 1 heard you arc from Rome.” 

“ I am from Rome,” I answered, “ but still I am a 
Jew.” 

“ What sort of Jews,” he asked, “are they in Rome? 
I do not know that I should think thee a Jew. Do they 
keep the law in Rome 1” 

“Surely, or we were not Jews.” 

“ I see not that,” answered Ziba. “ We keep not the 
law here in Judea, yet we are Jews.” 

“ There are two ways,” said I, “ of keeping the law ; 
one is to keep the letter of the law only, as the Phari- 
sees ; the other, to observe the letter, but keep it in its 
spirit too.” 

“ We only do the first here-abouts,” replied the camel- 
driver. “ There’s that Jael ; he is an elder of the syn- 
agogue hard by his inn. You would think, to see him 
there, as I have when on this road, that never a prophet 
loved God like him ; yet the next day shall you pay 
him a full sum for sour wine, and your camel’s food 


JULIAN. 


131 


shall be half chaff, while he will at the same time so 
smile and affirm as to cheat you, before he has done, out 
of your own judgment. As 1 have heard the Prophets 
read and the Law, they command not only to say pray- 
ers, offer sacrifices, and go up to Jerusalem at the feasts, 
but to be an honest man besides. Is it not so 1” 

<k Surely, I should think it so.” 

“I warrant you it is, if it is anything. I truly, do 
not keep the law any way ; I am a camel-driver. But 
this, that I have said, is the sort of keeping I see in 
Caesarea and Jerusalem. Ah! what do I not know of 
some of those long-faced Pharisees'? Many is the time 
in Caesarea I have tracked them from the very doors of 
the synagogues to their haunts. For me, I love an 
honest sinner like myself. None of your two-faced, 
smooth-tongued, rotten-hearted knaves, who, having 
cheated the world all the week, think on the Sabbath to 
cheat God as well, by their fastings and prayers. It is 
these, who choose the highest places in the synagogues, 
where we can all look on and see the game that is 
played, that teach us to despise not them only, but the 
law too. Such have more to answer for than their own 
wickedness in the judgment-day, who have not only not 
kept the law themselves, but hindered those who would. 
There’s many a ruler of a synagogue I have known, 
who, if he were in the world to come to keep company 
with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob for his reward, 
would not be good company enough for Ziba, the camel- 
driver.” 

“ In the new kingdom you speak of under Herod, or 
some other, you will look, I suppose, to see all these 
things mended, shall you not ?” 


132 


J'ULIATT. 


“ I know not as to that,” replied he ; “ as I said, 1 
shall then look to have plenty of wine, — sweet wine, too, 
not such as Jael’s, — and other such things, for the reason 
which is plain enough, that the Romans will be driven 
off, and all that now is stolen from us and carried away 
beyond sea will remain here, and the poor will have 
their share of it. And, perhaps, vastly more than this, 
for the priests tell of great things. But I believe less 
than half of what a priest says. Some of them say the 
kingdom will last a thousand years, and some forever. 
Many good things might come to pass in that long time, 
or even in less thair half as long.” 

“ But do you not suppose, that under Messiah men 
will be honest, — honest and good ?” 

“ 1 know not how that is to be,” said Ziba ; “ I hear 
not much about it, that is all I can say. They talk of 
great riches, great armies and victories, of having Rome 
under our feet ; and Romans for slaves, — dogs as they 
are; — but they say little about keeping the law any 
better then than now. And, by my head, I think if 
there was much to be done about that, we should hear 
less of the new kingdom than we do. But come, let us 
prick on ; there are travellers yonder about to meet us, 
from whom we may learn news; let us come up with 
thy companion, who lies in wait for them under the 
shade.” 

So saying, he urged his beast into a round pace, and 
we soon came up with those who were advancing from 
the region of the Jordan, but who, before we reached 
them, were pausing with Onias beneath the shadows of 
some spreading trees. They were a company of mer- 
chants from Philadelphia, beyond Jordan, bound t^ 


JULIAN'. 


133 


Gesarea. After the tedious ceremonies of salutation 
were over, which in these parts occupy as much space, 
as in Rome the business itself would for which they are 
the preparation, — Onias first asked them of the prosper- 
ity of their city, and then of the country round about 
them, and if there were of late anything new concerning 
Arabia, which questions, when they had been diligently 
answered, and they had asked as many in their turn, 
and received the desired replies from Onias, my uncle 
then inquired of them concerning the rumor which had 
met him at the inn of Jael at Thebez, of a prophet, who 
had made his appearance in the neighborhood of the 
Jordan, and whether they had either seen him, or heard 
of him. lie who seemed to be the principal person of 
‘.he company replied, that they had crossed the Jordan 
at the ford just above Ehon, and had slept in that village, 
where indeed they had heard of the person of whom 
Onias spoke, but he was not now in those parts. 

“ What,” asked Onias eagerly, “think the people of 
him ? and has he been at Enon'?” 

“lie has not been at Enon,” answered the other, 
“but passed by on this side the river. The people, 
however, seemed to think, from what was reported of 
him on all sides, that he was surely a prophet. They 
could speak of nothing else at the inn where we lodged, 
but we were too weary with the heat and travel of the 
day to give much heed to what was said, — besides that 
affairs of our own were to be transacted. If, as would 
seem, you are bound to the same ford at which we have 
crossed, you will learn there more than we can tell. It 
were better, I doubt not, for this wanderer, whosoever 
he may be, to stay at home and attend to affairs that 
Vo l. I. — 12 


134 


JULIAN. 


concern himself alone. He who would mend the state 
does the most in that way, and most surely, when he 
keeps himself and his own affairs whole. The Lord will 
prosper the diligent. And when all are diligent, each 
in his own business, then riches are multiplied and the 
whole land is a garden.” 

“ The wisdom of what you say,” replied Onias, 44 is 
past all doubt. But then when men are not diligent, 
when the wicked rule in the land, when it is because 
men are the subjects of Sin that they will not mind their 
affairs and their households, what then shall be done? 
Before they will become diligent, they must be brought 
away from their wickedness; they must be made to 
know that it is their sin that stands between them and 
their own prosperity and the prosperity of their country, 
and that except they repent, the vengeance of God, it 
may well be feared, shall be poured out upon them, as 
of old on these cities of the plain. But who shall do 
this great work? Where is the rabbi or the priest 
among us, who hath either wisdom or power to reach 
cars that are dull as adders’, and hearts hard as the 
nether mill-stone? Verily, we may despair for Israel, 
except the Lord have compassion and send unto us 
whom he will ?” 

44 When the Lord sends or speaks,” rejoined the 
other, 44 the signs of his presence will be such as the eye 
cannot be blind to, but will see and confess as it does 
the sun over our heads. I learn not of any such signs, 
in this case ; but rather that he of whom we speak is 
some houseless traveller, sordid and poor in his attire, 
and likely to be in the keeping of some devil, rather 
than his own wits. But you will hear and know what 


JtTLI AN. 


135 


you wish as you travel further on. In the mean while 
the Lord keep you. Come, neighbors.” 

Saying this, and giving a blow to his ass, he started 
on his way, followed by his companions and their load- 
ed camels ; not concealing by their loud talk and laugh- 
ter, as they drew off, that they held my uncle’s earnest- 
ness in light esteem. After the civil encounter of the 
first meeting, which we had observed as we rode up, 1 
had looked for a quite different interview ; but Ziba’s 
opinion was perhaps a just one, that they had hoped to 
drive some trade with us, and seeing no hope of that as 
the conversation was prolonged, but that we were quite 
another sort of travellers, they scrupled not to vent 
their vexation in the way they did. 

As they disappeared, Onias broke forth ; “ A besot- 
ted and ignorant people! what hope is there of Judea? 
The one part are slaves to Rome, another part are 
slaves to riches, and another part are slaves to sin. 
Yet is the Lord as capable to turn the heart of this 
people, corrupt and stiff-necked as they are, as I the 
head of the beast I ride. One thing is not easy and 
another hard to him ; one is not more easy than anoth- 
er ; nor one more hard than another. He can take up 
all Rome in the palm of his hand, and blow it into air, 
even as fine dust, and this great plain of the earth itself 
can he crumble into atoms by a word of his mouth, and 
it shall vanish forever. What to him, then, is Judea, 
and the hearts of all her people? Can he not turn 
them whithersoever he will, and is there any to hinder ? 
The end of time is come, even upon us ; the days are 
fulfilled ; and that, which all who yet have hearts de- 
eire, shall come. This broad land which to-day lies 


136 


JULIAN. 


cursed and barren, delivered over to the hands of 
strangers, may even to-morrow, if the Lord so will, 
(and ere long the word shall go forth,) sit beneath the 
shadow of her own king, and blossom as a garden of 
roses. Shall Pilate longer reign where David did ? 
Shall this Roman Nebuchadnezzar from the other side 
of the Great Sea forever hold us in this worse than 
Babylonian bondage'?” 

These things, and more than these, did Onias pour 
forth, rather as if uttering what was passing through his 
mind, because it would come to the lips, than as ad- 
dressing me. Ziba was in great astonishment, and 
doubted whether he, who was so caught away from 
earth, were not himself possessed of a spirit of prophe 
cy. He said, “ that although he was but as one of the 
wicked, yet when he heard one speak, who seemed 
filled with a good spirit, he felt moved toward him, and 
could be easily turned about by him as he would. The 
priests and elders,” he continued, “ move me not, seeing 
they read and speak as though their own hearts gave 
not out what they said, but their lips only. So that if 
it appear that they themselves who know the law best, 
and are the priests of God, are not persuaded of what 
they declare, that it is true and excellent, how can they 
persuade me? I have ever seen that when I take a 
traveller through steep and rocky passages, full of 
windings and pitfalls, and reported to be beset by 
robbers, they ever have the faith which they behold in 
me. But I cannot believe the priest, because he believes 
not himself.” 

I could not deny that he had reason on his side in 
some good measure, and that until the synagogue was 


JULIAN. 


137 


reformed, he would find little motive to change his way 
of* life ; yet, 1 added, that surely all the synagogues 
were not alike, — nor all the rulers and priests; he 
ought not to make one stand for all ; doubtless, there 
were those, who were as pure as the law they taught ; I 
had known such in Gesarea, and even in Rome. Ziba, 
however, never had. lie believed there were none 
such, and that their hypocrisies had succeeded in blind- 
ing me. So have 1 found this poor man, even as I have 
found many in Rome, having much good in his heart, 
and many desires of what is better, yet in truth believ- 
ing in nothing, and trusting none by reason of the 
deceits arid vices, which he had seen to be practised by 
those M ho have been the ministers of religion. 

Good men will ever make good men. And even in 
the precincts, my mother, of the idol temples of Rome, 
have I seen virtues to grow up and flourish, and all 
good habits and customs prevail among the worship- 
pers, not as 1 believe, because there was any force in 
the faith they had or thought they had in their gods, 
nor because they themselves thought there was, but 
only because they beheld sincerity, goodness, and sim- 
plicity in the lives of the priests, who urged such virtues 
upon them. If a priesthood is pure, the faith of the 
people will bo stable; the reality, which their own 
hearts tell them religion is, will not be contradicted by 
what they see in the characters of those who profess to 
know and believe more than themselves. But so soon 
as the worshipper suspects the sincerity or the virtue 
of the man, who makes it his business to teach virtue 
and the law of faith, then it seems to him the founda- 
tions on which he has been standing are taken away 
12 * 


139 


JULIAS. 


from under his feet, and all is darkness and doubt. 
What has it been, — why should I forbear to utter the 
truth, — but thy virtues, my mother, which have pre- 
served some faint light of faith in my soul. Long 
before I could declare the reasons why it was so, I felt 
that the worship of our synagogue was day by day 
uprooting the early religion which by thy care had been 
planted in my heart. I used to tell you of my thoughts, 
and how it was because of what I knew or believed to 
be true of our Priest, that I felt my youthful reverence 
for holy things to decline and die within me, and how it 
was because of what I saw and heard of the divine vir- 
tues of the venerable Saturnus, that I was almost per- 
suaded to become a worshipper in the temple of Jupiter. 
They who gathered round that excellent old man, and 
listened to his maxims, but more than all, were daily 
witnesses of the manner of his life, felt that there was 
nothing so worthy and real as what they saw' in him, 
and they strove to become like him. This was true 
faith. I heard and admired with them as often as I 
could elude thy watchful eye, and it was only thy image 
ever rising before me that saved me from throwing my- 
self into the arms of an abhorred idolatry. For, I said, 
if it is not what Saturnus believes of his Jupiter, that 
draw's me toward his temple, and I scarce know what he 
believes — I am persuaded, moreover, that whatever it is, 
it is a miserable superstition — but simply the divine 
beauty of his spirit and life, why for that should I 
esteem his religion more than my own ? Shall the vir. 
tucs of Saturnus, the Pagan, weigh with me more than 
those of Naomi the Jewess? Are they either more in 
number, or mere god-like ? If the virtues of the Pagan 


JULIAN. 149 

bind the youth who hear him to his faith, shall not the 
virtues of Naomi bind her son to his ? So that often as 
for reasons, which thou knowest well, I was tempted to 
renounce the religion of my father, and all belief of 
every kind and name, it was still my unwavering faith 
in the reality of virtue as seen embodied in my mother, 
that held me back and taught me patience and humility. 
I waited ; and distrusting my power at so young an age 
to determine questions so weighty and difficult, resolved 
to believe in virtue if in nothing else, because I saw in 
thee that it was something as stable and real as the 
earth itself, and beautiful as the light. 

Our road since we left the inn of Jael, had run through 
a country with a surface gently flowing like the summer 
waves of the sea, rising and falling, but never with ab- 
ruptness, save that on our left at this point of our jour- 
ney there rose a steep and lofty hill. Soon leaving that 
behind, the prospect before and around us was wholly 
that of an extensive plain, crowded with villages, covered 
with an abundant vegetation, and giving tokens in the 
richness of the soil, and universal verdure, of our ap- 
proach to the Jordan. As occasionally we emerged 
from the deep and grateful shades, which were cast over 
our road by the heavy -leafed trees of these warmer re- 
gions, and gained a slight elevation, we could see the 
waters of the river here and there gleaming through the 
foliage. Next, Enon rose before us, standing not far from 
its banks on the hither side, and Onias having affairs to 
despatch in that place, we made towards it, although, as 
you will perceive by the marks which I have set down 
of our journey, it lies far out of a direct course from the 
hills of Samaria to Beth-IIarem. It was necessary that 


140 


JULIAN. 


Onias should tarry there a space, and besides, as he as- 
sured me, although coming by the ford of Enon would 
extend the line of our travel, yet should we be abundantly 
repaid by the greater pleasantness of the road, especially 
by that part of it, which, between Enon and Beth-IIarem, 
lies on the bank of the river, and on its eastern side. 

After parting from the three merchants of Philadel- 
phia, the day being then far advanced, we had met 
abundance of travellers, both such as belonged to those 
regions, and such as had come from different parts of 
Peraia and Arabia. Of many had we made the same 
inquiries as of the merchants, and from all obtained 
what established the truth of the rumor which had first 
met us at Thebez — that a stranger from the south country 
had appeared on the Jordan and in the districts on either 
side, about whom the people were greatly stirred, but 
concerning whom they did not seem to have learned 
anything from which much could be gleaned as to his 
real character and purpose. The expectations of the 
whole nation being toward the appearance of him, whom 
they believe to have been promised, they readily behold 
in any remarkable qualities of an individual some of the 
features, which they expect to distinguish that great per- 
sonage, and thus easily deceive themselves. What we 
desire to see, we are apt to think we see. So that al- 
though in this John from Hebron, there be in truth none 
of the signs which should announce the Messiah, all are 
wondering within themselves, and to one another, whether 
it may not be he. At Enon, while Onias was prosecut- 
ing his business with those whom he wished to see, w r e 
still continued to ask the same questions of all, as on the 
road, but without arriving at any knowledge that was 


JULIAN. 


141 


much more distinct ; and what we heard from one often 
was at variance from what we heard from another ; and 
this notwithstanding John had already been on the Jor- 
dan near the place, accompanied by some who had joined 
him as followers ; so difficult is it, where the expectations 
arc of a certain character, to make up our judgments ac- 
cording to the real appearances before us, rather than 
in agreement with what exists only in our own minds. 

When Onias had ended what he desired to accomplish 
in Enon, we set forth toward the Jordan, which now lay 
but a few furlongs from the town. I approached with 
curiosity and delight this stream of which the name and 
history had been so long familiar. I well remembered 
how, as the feet of the Priests who bore the ark touched 
its brim, the waters dried up, and after they had passed 
over, the multitudes of Israel followed in safety, notwith- 
standing it was the time of harvest and the Jordan over- 
flowed all his banks — a miracle which for its greatness is 
like those wrought in Egypt, and which together show 
so evidently that God manifested himself in those days 
to such, and for such things, as he deemed worthy. At 
this time of the year we found the river deprived of more 
than half its waters by reason of the drought ; and so, 
although it seemed broad, broader in truth than I had 
looked to find it, yet did it also appear much more shal- 
low, seeing that I had overlooked the fact that, like all 
rivers which take their rise among mountains, it is sub- 
ject to great inequalities, being swollen so as to overflow 
its banks at the time the snows melt and the early rains 
descend ; and then during the great heats of summer be- 
ing diminished in like proportion below its ordinary size. 
The banks were thickly grown over with every kind of 


142 


JtJLIAK. 


shrub .and tree, here .and there overhanging the waters, 
then retreating and lea ving an open space of clear grassy 
slope. The gaudy flowers too of this climate were every- 
where glittering in the sunlight, or else themselves send- 
ing out rays of light by reason of their gorgeous colors, 
as they grew among the deep shadows of the trees. 
Birds too — now indeed silent through the heat of the 
dqy — but of hues like flame, glanced hither and thither 
amongst the branches of the willow or the broad tere- 
binth. And up and down on either side of the stream 
were companies of the inhabitants of the neighboring 
cities and villages, reposing in the shade, or watching 
their children as they pursued the shining insects that 
darted through the air, or venturing into the Jordan 
sported in its swift running waters. The scene on either 
side of the stream, as it wound its way along, was very 
beautiful to the eye and the mind ; and as we slowly 
bent our steps to the water there where the ford was, 
and entered it, we could not refuse, so inviting was all 
around and not less the cool waves running below, to 
linger and pause frequently as wc went over, each con- 
fessing that if we sought to indulge our humor, it would 
be to remain just there where we were through the heat 
of the day. But as such pleasures must have an end we 
presently reached the further side of the river, and pur- 
sued our way on the Eastern bank down toward Beth- 
Jlarem. 

“ Now,” exclaimed Onias, as we left the waters of the 
river and ascended the opposite bank, “we are within 
the dominions of Herod, who is in part at least a He- 
brew ; yet whether a Hebrew but in part or not, it is he 
who should now be king of Judea. Philip is not he. 


J tJLiAir. 


143 


lie is too much the lover of* peace for such times as are 
to unfold. Ilcrod was born for them.” 

“ Yet even Herod,” said I, “ is subject to Rome. It 
matters little who is king of the Jews so long as he 
holds of the Romans, not of us, or of God. 1 ’ 

“ As the eye judges, Herod is truly subject to Rome,” 
replied Onias. “ But there are those who serve and 
yet govern. Is Tiberius, or Sejanus truly Emperor 1 
There are those who appear indeed to be among the low 
and humble, who yet, by reason of the soul that reigns 
within, are higher than monarchs. Some though there 
be a crown of universal dominion on their heads, are 
yet as nothing — nay as dirt — in comparison of him on 
whom the glory of the Lord rests. Tiberius is to-day 
the absolute lord of the universe, but another may be 
more than that to-morrow, before w'hom that great Em 
peror shall humble himself as a slave. Hast thou faith, 
J ulian, in the prophets ?” 

I said that I had been duly instructed in them by the 
piety of my mother, and that I doubted not they were 
moved of God. 

“ Of whose kingdom then speaks the prophet, when 
he says that his kingdom shall be everlasting ?” 

“ I suppose I should answer of the Messiah ; but I 
pretend not to know with exactness the sense of the 
prophets. I am but a learner as yet in my own re- 
ligion.” 

“ Nevertheless,” said my uncle, “ thou hast answered 
well. Doubtless it is said of the Messiah. His king- 
dom shall be from sea to sea. Now, even now, is the 
time it were come. But if God’s kingdom come now 
and bo universal, that of Rome shall be swallowed up 


144 


JULIAN. 


and lost as a drop of water in the sea. May this thy 
kingdom speedily come, O Lord, and thy servant behold 
its glory.” 

My uncle as he uttered this ejaculation, fell into his mu- 
sing frame from which it was a long time ere he showed 
any disposition to return and resume his discourse with 
me, which indeed gives me not much light, from his re- 
fraining, as it were, to say all that is in his thought. He 
does little more at any time than approach the borders 
of somewhat that lies in his mind, never fairly laying 
open the regions about which he excites your curiosity; 
I presently, however, asked him of Herod, of whom we 
had just spoken and of whom I knew little, and of a 
brother of his, who held some small government under 
Rome in the Eastern part of J udea. 

“ Ilerod,” he replied, “ about whom you inquire, the 
oldest living son of the great Herod, and often known 
under the name of Antipas, is one well able to reign over 
a larger dominion than that which he possesses, which 
is indeed but a pitiful rood of earth, if one compares 
the territory with Rome or with what he is fit to govern. 
He is, of all the sons of Herod the Great, of the nearest 
approach to his father, in respect to the vigor of his 
mind, and all qualities that go to make a monarch 
worthy of his name and empire. Especially does he 
possess that far and deep seeing eye that penetrates the 
purposes and minds of other men, and knows how to 
lead them, and cause them to work his will, whether or 
not they themselves would choose to do so. He amazes 
uy the sagacity and subtlety of his devices. For while 
you have deemed him to have been engaged in one en- 
terprise, or compassing one object, suddenly it appears 


JULIAN. 


'lb 

that he had a quite different end in view, and those who 
look on can only admire at a power which they cannot 
comprehend or measure. A great destiny awaits him. 
The central sun of Rome may yet grow dim before what 
is now the feeble glimmering star of Galilee.” 

“ More surely and sooner,” continued Onias, “ might 
we look for such issue, could he work according to his 
will with his brother who governs as tetrarch in Tra- 
ehonitis — Philip. But in him we find none of the signs 
of true greatness. He is a Jew indeed ; but a Jew with 
lione of the ambition of the Jew. It is enough for him to 
govern his litttle kindom in peace, administering justice 
among his subjects, enlarging the borders of their pros 
perity, and paying duly and without any signs of dis- 
content his subsidies to Rome — the proof and the badge 
of slavery. Though mild and gentle among his people, 
he is yet obstinate, and intractable to the will of his 
brother, who hath hitherto failed, with all his skill, to 
pour into him a portion of his own spirit, and wake to 
life a soul dead to his own honor and the greatness of 
his country. Were another Antipas in the seat of 
Philip, another day would soon arise upon unhappy 
Israel. Yet though to the eye of man mountains of ob- 
struction intervene, all is easy and the way smooth to 
the power of the God of Abraham. A reed from the 
banks of Jordan in his hand shall break in pieces the 
•earth. And by one, as well as by two or a multitude, 
can he confound the counsels of princes, and bring them 
and all their greatness to nought. What was the rosy- 
cheeked David, the little son of Jesse, with his sling and 
stones, to the giant of the Philistines with his sword like 
a weaver’s beam 1 Truly in himself he was as a lamb 
Vol. I.— 13 


146 


JtTLtAW. 


before a lion lean with hunger. But seeing Jehovah 
was in the arm and sling of the boy, of what avail were 
the sword and strong armor of Goliah ? It matters 
not neither how nor where Philip bestows himself, nor 
whether he gives or withholds. Himself, not Judea 
will be the loser. So, too, touching him who dwells ir. 
Jerusalem, Herod-Philip, the affairs of the world can 
proceed without him, even though he should refuse to 
his brother the little power, which, by reason of his de- 
scent alone, he holds over the populace of the capital. 
Nevertheless, what he may reftise, might be won through 
another.” 

“You mean,” I said, “his wife.” For I had heard of 
her through Philip and Anna in Caesarea. 

“Yes,” replied Onias. “I speak of her, the daughtei 
of Aristobulus, in whom lives all the greatness of the 
great Herod. Had the providence of God made her a 
son instead of a daughter, the world had now been full 
of her fame. Even as a woman much might be 
achieved, but what can a lioness do yoked to a mule ? 
She must first break away from the unequal bonds that 
yet hold her. Thou hast not seen Herodias, Julian 1” 

“ I have never been in Jerusalem,” I replied. 

“ But she is often in Caesarea,” said Onias, “and was 
there, as I have heard, at the games of Herod ; was it 
not so 1” 

“ She was looked for, as was also her daughter, with 
gTeat expectation,” I replied, “but they came not.” 

“ Doubtless,” anwered Onias, “ her husband had in- 
telligence of the expected tumult, and so forebore to put 
himself where his presence might have been taken amiss 
by Pilate. Yet I marvel why Ilerodias went not; 


JULIAN. 


147 


since it is no less than the very life of her life to oppose 
her proud and lofty beauty to the milder charms of 
Procla, and so divide, at least, if not bear away with 
triumph, the praises of the theatre. Mayhap, however, 
Antipas was in Jerusalem.” 

These things I set down, my mother, as answering 
the questions you have asked concerning this family. 
As I learn more from thy close and reluctant brother, 
more will I deliver. 

We were now far on our way to Beth-Harem, and 
ere the sun should leave us, we should easily reach it. 
I was truly desirous to arrive, as with my common 
impatience I had become weary of my long communion 
with Onias, relieved only at times by a little jesting 
with Ziba, and not less with the sameness of verdant 
beauty, which stretched all along on either bank of the 
Jordan. Yet was it, I believe, still more than these 
a desire to behold the residence of Onias, and the fair 
Judith, that occasioned my dissatisfaction and some 
complaints, I fear, of the slow progress we made. 
Much had been told me of the estates of Onias by 
Philip; but more by Anna of Judith, his daughter, 
“who,” she would say, “is the bright star of Beth- 
Harem and of all that region, and in her light you, 
J ulian, will forget this little dark shadow in Caesarea ; 
but then, what is that to me ? I am content it should 
be so, while I can have the love and friendship of 
Philip.” Alas ! my mother, that a light like that of 
Anna should have been so early quenched ! To her, and 
her brother, do my thoughts continually turn back, when- 
ever the novelty or beauty of some present object does 
not take me away from myself. If Philip was rash and 


T43 


JULIAS'. 


over-confident, he was, nevertheless, brave, and a willing 
sacrifice for the freedom of his country. No thought of 
his own glory, I believe, ever had a moment’s place in 
his mind ; it was rage at the oppression of J udea, and a 
thirst of revenge that drove him on, and swayed him so 
as to blind him to the obstructions, which, mountain 
high, lay between him and the attainment of his end 
nor only that, but made his ruin and death as certain as 
his attempt. Though I could never approve as wise 
the measures which he pursued, and think it was only 
passion and the spirit of revenge that could justify 
them, — which truly justified all that he did, and would 
have justified all he could have done, or devised,— yet 
do I abhor the wanton tyranny, which drove him to his 
rebellion, and wait with impatience for the day that shall 
witness a just retaliation. And this the more, as the 
form of Anna rises before me as at the moment I last 
beheld her, transfixed by a Roman javelin,— that child 
of truth and nature, who loved her country and her faith 
as Roman never did, but who loved her brother more, 
and concealed it not, but would confess that though her 
reason sometimes doubted him, or rebelled, her heart 
was ever stronger than her reason, and made her the 
very counterpart of himself. Certain I am that no 
other will ever again so possess my soul as Anna ; yet 
had she lived, who could have shared any portion of that 
love, which was no longer hers to give, but was all her 
brother’s ? Anna dead is to me, perhaps, as much as 
Anna living ever could have been. 

As thoughts and remembrances like these arose in 
my mind on the way, I hardly wished to see Beth- 
Harem. I would rather dwell among the dead than the 


JULIAN. 


1*9 


living. I cared neither for Onias nor Judith. But they* 
quickly gave way again to others, and I was ready to 
press my uncle to make more speed. At a moment 
when I was in this latter mood, thy brother said ; “ Be- 
hold, there are the walls of Beth-Harem! We must 
now for a space part from the river and turn our faces 
toward the hills.” 

The sun was not far from his setting, and was pouring 
over the land a whole flood of yellow light, as we thus 
left the river and moved on among the more broken and 
uneven lands which lay toward the East. When w r e 
had continued not long in the midst of such scenes, 
passing among the rich fields of the husbandmen with 
their simple dwellings half-hidden by overhanging vines, 
or buried beneath fruit-trees, we at length entered upon 
lands, which, by the manner in which they were culti- 
vated, and their great extent, showed that we were ap- 
proaching the dwellings of some of the richer proprie- 
tors of the soil. Soon, upon emerging from a grove, 
through which our way had wound along, we came upon 
open, level grounds, covered with vineyards, olive- 
orchards, fields of grain, and wide-spreading pastures, 
in the centre of which, upon a gentle elevation, stood 
ranges of low but extensive buildings, which I needed 
not my uncle’s exclamations to assure me were the 
dwelling of Onias. A few lofty palms, and a single 
terebinth of a great size were the only trees immedi- 
ately near it, as, except that for a considerable space in 
every direction there stretched out a smooth and verdant 
floor of turf, the grounds on all sides were usefully de- 
voted to gardens and vineyards. Over and beyond the 
fields and buildings of the “prince of these regions,” 


150 


JULIAN. 


were visible the walls and towers of Beth-Harem, giving 
me to see that while it was not a place of the largest 
size, neither was it insignificant either for its extent, or 
the structures whose outlines could be distinctly dis- 
cerned, gilded as they now were with the last warm rays 
of the declining sun. Quickening our pace, we soon 
threaded the winding •way which led from the public 
road to the house. As we rapidly approached, Judith, 
followed by her maids, hastened to meet us. Onias, 
springing from his horse, tenderly embraced and kissed 
her, asking a thousand questions of her welfare, and of 
that of all the household. Then, turning to me, he said, 
M and here is thy half-gentile cousin of Rome, with his 
gentile name, Julian, the son of Naomi ; he is now thy 
charge. Let him have no reason to say, that the barns 
and store-houses of Onias refused to open for him their 
best treasures.” “ For his mother’s sake, and his own,” 
replied the daughter, “ he is welcome ; his Roman name 
shall not deprive him of Jewish hospitality.” Onias 
then leading the way, we entered the house. 

The refreshment of the bath, in which, and in other 
forms of washing, the Jews of Palestine indulge yet 
more than we of Rome, soon restored me to myself 
after the heat and fatigue of our long journey. The 
household of Onias I found to be numerous ; composed, 
however, not of his own descendants, — as Judith is his 
only child, — but of members of our large family from 
every part of the world, whom he gathers round him, 
even as a patriarch of old, exercising over them a sort 
of lower providence. When we had eaten, we ascended 
to the spacious roof, to pass the evening hours. A broad 
tent was here spread to defend from the dews which at 


JULIAN. 


151 


this time of the year begin to fall, and from the cool 
breezes which sometimes spring up in the night, even 
after the day has been oppressive through its heat. 
Here we either sat and conversed, or else walking about, 
I learned from the mouth of J udith the names and di- 
rections of the principal objects in the scene, being 
lighted up by a brighter moon than it is ever our for- 
tune to behold in Rome. 

Onias seemed little disposed to join our discourse ; 
yet, whatever was his preference for a close communion 
with himself alone, he never refused to lend his ear when 
Judith spoke. W e had been talking of Rome, Caesarea, 
Philip and Anna, of Pilate and Herod, to all which 
Onias had given but little attention, when Judith turned 
to him, and said : 

“ I hope, hither, that now these long expeditions will 
cease ; or if they must still be undertaken, that you will 
be persuaded to send our new cousin in thy stead, who 
has not as yet seen that region. But what of so great 
moment can a vine-dresser, here on the banks of the 
Jordan, have to do with princes V 1 

“ My daughter,” replied Onias, “ seek not to know 
what may not be revealed ; at least, not as yet, nor to 
woman’s ears. Let this suffice thee, — that the vine- 
dresser of Beth-Harem is not leagued with princes for 
any end which his daughter could not approve, or J e- 
hovah smile upon.” 

Judith, who had evidently spoken in a sportful man- 
ner, seemed grieved by the grave reply of her father, 
and hastened to say “ that she doubted not her father ; 
yet, could she not but apprehend possible evil, when he 
was departing so far from his wonted manner of life, 


152 


JULIAN. 


and binding himself to associates so different from his 
former ones, as Ilerod of Galilee.” 

Onias rose and walked to and fro upon the roof. 

Presently he asked if any had been impatient to see 
him while absent. Judith replied, none, save a messen- 
ger from Machserus. Had he brought letters'? asked 
Onias. No; his communication must be with Onias 
himself. 

He, then, kissing his daughter, and commending her 
to her bed, and me to early repose after the toil of our 
journey, descended to his apartment; we following 
him, and resorting also to ours. 


JULIAN. 


153 




I awoke, my mother, not in Rome, though my dreams 
had carried me there, and placed me at your side, vainly 
attempting to win away your attention from the book 
of the prophets, which according to your wont, in the 
morning’s prime, you were diligently pondering. It 
was the rebuke of your sometimes severe countenance 
at an impertinent jest of mine, that broke my slumbers. 
Slowly the mists of the night drew away and left me in 
the full consciousness of my position. My eyes fell 
upon unaccustomed objects ; the open casement held up 
before me a distant prospect of stream and plain, hill 
and tower, such as I never before had seen ; the song 
of birds, whose strains were new and strange, voices of 
laborers or of the servants of the household calling to 
each other in the Syriac tongue, — not even yet an agree- 
able melody, — met my ear; these, and other sights 
and sounds by degrees informed me that I had been 
sleeping neither in Italy nor Rome, but was still a 
sojourner in the barbarous clime of the further Pales- 
tine, even upon the outskirts of the Asiatic deserts. In 
that sense of utter feebleness of the will with which 
we first wake in the morning, it seemed to me, that I 
would renounce all knowledge of other places and 
people, for the sake of being once more in Rome. I 
cared not for Onias, Judith, Judea, nor the whole East, 


154 jrLiAK. 

in comparison with Rome and thee. But action, and 
the bath, and the fresh air of the housetop, soon scat- 
tered these worse than dreams, and restored me to my 
manhood. 

In a part of the dwelling not far from where I had 
slept, I found Onias and Judith, with others of their 
large household, awaiting me at a table well covered 
with bread, fruits, wines, and dainties unknown to the 
vocabulary of Roman art. Thy stern and contemplative 
brother saluted me, methought, with no very encour- 
aging fervor, but very much as if he were addressing a 
new comer as little welcome as expected. But this I 
regarded not, for I knew, that so soon as his dreamy 
thoughts could be gathered together, some from Jeru- 
salem, some from Galilee, and some from Rome, he 
would comprehend who I was, and I should be dealt 
with accordingly. From Judith my greeting was quite 
otherwise. She hastened to meet me as I entered, and 
by the natural ardor of her manner, and the glow of her 
most expressive countenance, made me feel that I was 
in but another home. Indeed, my mother, thy niece is 
very beautiful. Shall I speak of Rebecca, or Ruth, or 
Rachel, or Judith of old? Rebecca at the well, with 
our great father Isaac, as tradition paints her, was not 
to be placed by the side of Judith, the daughter of 
Onias, w r hen she rose from her embroidered couch and 
gave me the salute of peace, and then proffered me the 
refreshments of the loaded board. I believe I only 
gazed at her in return, and gave as many signs of dis- 
traction as Onias himself; for before I had fully re- 
covered myself, I heard from one who was near, “ Can 
it be that Rome hath no women ?” Those few words, 


JULIAN. 


155 


not intended to reach my ear, brought me to myself, 
and gave a new direction to my eyes, and unloosed my 
tongue. There was then no want either of food for dis- 
course, or of disposition to engage in it, save on the 
part of thy brother, who during the whole repast spake 
never a word, unless it were in reply to questions ur- 
gently pressed upon him, and those relating to the mat- 
ters immediately before us. 

No sooner were our duties discharged towards both 
ourselves and the substantial dishes that had been set 
for our refreshment, than, Judith leading the way, we 
turned from the apartment where we had been sitting, 
and were conducted by her to an extensive portico, 
stretching along the side of the house that overlooks the 
Jordan and the vineyards which lie along his banks. 
The single terebinth of a giant size, of which I have al- 
ready made mention, stood near this portico and spread 
its broad arms so far, that some of them reached and 
cast a grateful shade over the spot where we sat, defend- 
ing our eyes agreeably against the rays of a bright sum- 
mer sun. The dwelling of Onias, I could now observe 
to be even more extensive than in the twilight of the 
preceding evening I had supposed ; and to be composed 
of parts varying greatly in their forms, giving signs of 
having been built at periods remote from each other, 
and by those who paid no regard to any other rule than 
to indulge each his own particular fancy in what he 
added or altered. As I have said the building is low 
and of but a single story ; yet its lowness is in seeming 
only, owing to the large space which it covers. The 
rooms within are lofty, and the portico where we sat— 
of Koman construction and orders— is of a height not less 


156 


JULIAN. 


than that which adorns the house of Drusus on the Pal- 
atine. I was not surprised to find Roman architecture 
here beyond the Jordan; for since the power .of the 
IJerods has been felt in Judea, there is scarce a con- 
siderable tow r n but it is adorned w r ith Roman structures ; 
so that to behold their forms as I travelled through the 
country lifting themselves up on every side, overtopping 
and outshining the native buildings, it truly seemed to 
me that I was in Italy rather than elsewhere. Sebaste, 
Tiberias, Gamala, Caesarea, and Herodium not far from 
Machaerus toward the Dead Sea, are all Roman or 
Greek. The older portions of the dwelling of thy 
brother are neither Greek nor Roman, but in a much 
earlier manner. They are built of huge stones rudely 
put together, but in a manner to dbfy the pow'er of time 
to disjoint or cast them down ; of the same manner and 
form with those, which are found in all the country 
stretching to the east of the Perea and Trachonitis, 
but by whom and in what age erected no history re- 
lates. They appear, travellers report, to be rather the 
work of Titans than of men, and have served for the 
dwellings of successive generations. 

Those parts of thy brother’s house, w'hich are the 
work of more modern times, bear small resemblance to 
each other or to the original and older portions, but 
spread themselves out in every various direction and 
form, agreeing only in the same general elevation ; to 
this, however, there is the exception of a single broad 
tower rising to such a height as to overlook the whole 
region round about. Another portico runs along a part 
of the front which faces towards the south, resembling 
that in which we were now sitting, but of less extent. 


JULIAN. 


157 


A large space as an inner court is enclosed by the sides 
of the building, where a fountain plays, and over which 
is often drawn during the hot days of summer, an awn- 
ing of cloth upon a frame prepared for it, as a protec- 
tion from the heat and as yielding an agreeable shade. 
It is without difficulty partially broken up, or removed, 
when either more of light, or air, or warmth is desired, 
or when it becomes needful either to raise objects from 
the court below to the roof above, or to lower them 
down. The proper ascent to the roof is by stairs from 
within the dwelling ; yet it can also be ascended from 
without. 

“ You are pleased, as I judge by the direction of your 
eye,” said Judith when we w r ere seated, “with these 
proofs of a Roman taste. They cause you to feel as if 
you had wandered but a little way from home, and w r ere 
not quite among either strangers or barbarians. Of 
your family we have scarce heard anything more, than 
that you have adopted the Roman religion with Roman 
customs.” 

“ You have rightly judged,” I answered, “ that I am 
pleased with these signs of Roman taste in this noble 
Portico, as well as in many other things. The useful 
and ornamental arts I would have common to all, and 
by no means confined to one people or one faith. It is 
no good reason because Judea holds one form of religion, 
in which she excels other nations, that she should reject 
forms of art in which others excel her. Do you not 
think sol” 

“Ido indeed,” Judith replied. “Nations are more 
likely to live in harmony the more they can innocently 
adopt of each other’s customs, as well as the more they 

Vol. I.— 14 


158 


JULIAN. 


can see of each other. And so thought our ancestor, 
Alexander, to whom we owe most of these modern addi- 
tions, hut so thinks not Onias, the son of Alexander.” 
In saying which Judith raised her eyes from the em- 
broidery on which she was employed and turned them 
on her father. 

“Verily I do not,” rejoined Onias. “This worship 
of everything Roman is the new idolatry, which not less 
than that of old, into which our rebellious forefathers 
were ever falling, shows us false to our true descent, un- 
worthy of our name and faith, rebels against God, and 
if we repent not, destined quickly to perish. We are 
one half of us pagans, heathen, Romans, Greeks, every- 
thing, in Jews’ clothing. The last offence is, to be 
ashamed of what God hath made us, and that the Jew is. 
Surely God’s judgments will overtake and overwhelm 
us. My father, — may he rest in Abraham’s bosom, — 
was a good man, yet nevertheless a worshipper of idols 
not less than Ephraim. In this, at least, may I be per- 
mitted to boast, that my hatred burns toward all but 
Judea. Julian, I rejoice to tell thee, my daughter, is 
better than by your first words you have taken him for ; 
he has in part at least renounced the false faith in which he 
was nurtured, and returned to that of his Fathers. Born 
a Jew, but living thereafter and believing as a gentile, he 
has now, since his foot has touched the soil of Judea, and 
his eye seen her dishonor and her wrongs, turned back 
to what he was when his only learning was such as fell 
upon his ear, as he sat an infant upon the knees of 
Naomi. If my ear deceived me not, thy cousin last 
evening gave thee in part a history of his life.” 

“ He spoke,” said Judith, “ of Ceesarea, of Anna and 


JULIAN. 


150 


Philip, and of his adventures in their behalf ; but of his 
faith I could gather but little. It is in truth a greater joy 
than I looked for to greet him not only as one of the 
household of Alexander, but also of that of Abraham and 
Moses.” 

I then, for the satisfaction of the fair Judith, imparted 
to her much of what I had already, on our journey 
thither, related to thy brother, concerning the earlier 
part of my life and the causes that had led on to changes 
so considerable. She heard with deep attention, her 
hands often ceasing from their employment and her 
countenance turned towards me, showing her too much 
engaged in what was said to bethink herself, whether she 
were listening to any other than a familiar and long ac- 
customed voice. I wished my story longer for the sake 
of such a hearer. In the manner in which she yields to 
nature in the ardent expression of her countenance, being 
governed by no other power than her own feelings, 
Judith reminds me of Anna; but wdiile Anna was too 
much swayed by others, Judith is mistress of herself, 
and with all her passions shows a firmness which could 
not be turned from any path she deemed right. So at 
least I judge now after so brief an acquaintance. 

When I had ended, Judith said, “ I praise God, Julian, 
that he has brought you back safe amongst your own 
people, and to his own service. But then, I at least will 
tell you, what from your narrative you seemed not to 
have learned at Caesarea, that though Judea is trodden 
upon and oppressed, as you yourself have witnessed, it 
is not in her innocence that this has happened. She is 
not guiltless before God. Think not that she suffers but 
for her iniquities. It is these that have brought her so 


160 


JULIAN. 


low, blotted out her name even from among the nations, 
and caused that for these many centuries no prophet of 
God hath come as of old to instruct and hear us. Wick- 
edness is in the land. They who sit in Moses’ seat are 
usurpers. The law is honored by the lips but broken in 
the life. Cunning men have put their own conceits in 
the place of the word of God, and pass them off upon 
the people for his own truth. Through the multitude 
of such interpretations and the impudence of the priests 
the law is set aside and of no effect. It is not, Julian, 
deliverance from Rome alone that can heal our diseases. 
An Egyptian bondage (and ours is lighter) were not to 
be deplored like this great corruption of the heart. We 
need a physician of the soul who shall thoroughly purge 
it, and make it a dwelling cleansed of every foul thing, 
a habitation meet for the spirit of God. Freedom from 
Roman Power could not do this. Alas ! I fear it would 
but swell our pride the more, and remove farther off 
than ever the day when God shall visit his people. Till 
he shall see signs of repentance he will never come, 
never. Jordan would sooner flow back to his springs.” 

As J udith said these things tears stood in her eyes, 
which were lifted from their work, and fixed upon the 
flowing river as it wound along gleaming in the sun- 
shine. 

Onias, who had been pacing to and fro along the por- 
tico, now paused before his daughter and said ; 

u Judith, Judith, thou art ever too exacting toward our 
unhappy land. Thou judgest her hardly. Her sins are 
manifold in truth, but still are we not of the seed of 
Abraham 1 and who then is like unto us ? who shall e-er 
rise into our seat] whom doth Jehovah honor but us v 


JULIAN. 


161 


and for whom, as for us, are the ages waiting to bring 
forth their treasures ? shall not the promises of God be 
made good 1 Moreover, what causeth the sin that is, 
and for which the land mourneth, but this thrice cursed 
power of the gentile over us 1 While the idolater is in 
the land and its ruler, will not the people as of old bow 
down and worship the images that be everywhere set 
up 1 First, my daughter, first of all, must the oppressor 
be smitten and the oppressed made free ; then shall the 
seed have been destroyed that brings forth this harvest 
of iniquity. Then shall righteousness find space and soil 
to grow, and the gentile shall not be here to cause blast 
ing and mildew — .” 

A maid servant here quickly entered and said that a 
messenger from Machaerus was just arrived in haste in- 
quiring for Onias. Thy brother at this started, and with 
precipitation passed into the house following the servant. 

When he was gone 1 still sat conversing with Judith; 
but perceiving that her mind was now frequently with- 
drawn as if possessed by other thoughts, I too departed 
and bent my way toward the deep shades, which not far 
before us I beheld covering a slight elevation on the 
hither bank of the river. “ Beneath those shades,” said 
Judith as I went, “ you will find a calm and cool retreat, 
where, when as now the sun blazes with unusual heat, we 
sometimes pass the noonday hours. A simple structure 
stands beneath those trees, hidden now from our sight 
which overlooks the river and the vineyards. I com- 
mend you to its pleasant seats.” Saying these things she 
passed into the house, while I pursued my way to the 
vineyards on the banks, and the retreat to which Judith 
had commended me. 

14 * 


m 


JULIAN. 


Passing in my way through gardens, olive grounds, 
and vineyards, I came at length to the spot at which I 
aimed, distant at least half a Roman mile from the 
house. The building, hardly to be seen till approached 
very near, I found to be of a circular form, overrun with 
vines, which ' climbing up the columns to the roof then 
hung down in a confusion of polished leaves, bright ber- 
ries, flowers and fruit. A few gray rocks here and there 
breaking through the ground rendered the ascent on the 
side toward the river difficult, the more as among them 
grew wild plants, shrubs, and flowers, according to their 
will, untouched by the hand of art. From the entrance, 
open toward the south, the eye fell first upon the slope 
of meadow and vineyard along the nearer bank ; then 
upon the sacred stream as it wound slowly away and 
was hidden at length by overhanging foliage, and last 
upon a remote prospect of hill and wood, mountain and 
desert, even as far as the borders of the Dead Sea, till 
the warm haze of those regions shut in the scene and 
mingled the heavens and the earth together. I was not 
unwilling to enter where there was held out so rich a 
promise of rest and seclusion. Couches of many in- 
viting forms standing around tempted to repose, of 
which, to say the truth, notwithstanding the sleep of a 
long night, I still had need. Here then I passed the 
morning and midday hours, now gazing forth upon the 
new scenes before me, and wondering what my course 
should be, and now watching the labors of the distant 
husbandman as he gathered in the last returns of the 
harvest; sometimes buried in m usings which, beginning 
in somewhat bright as morning, ended as is their wont, 
in sleep ; sometimes satisfying at once both hun 


JULIAN. 


163 


ger and thirst with the grapes which ministering hands 
had heaped upon the table; and sometimes writing to 
thee, my mother, to thee whose image waking or asleep 
is ever before me, outshining all else above or below, 
real or unreal. No step intruded on my privacy, no 
sound disturbed my slumbers or my musings, save that 
of the bee as he flew from flower to fruit, or from fruit 
to flower, or of insects and birds, as half asleep they 
sent forth now and then a drowsy note, showing that 
they as well as I were tasting the joys of a perfect re- 
pose. Tims I either sat or lay, until the sun sinking 
behind the hills, and the growing coolness of the air, 
warned me of the hour of the evening repast ; for here 
as with us the principal meal is at the close of day, 
when the heat hath subsided and its labor is done. 

Many days like this, only varied with such changes as 
you, my mother, will readily imagine, now passed away. 
Instructed by Judith, I made myself familiar with Beth- 
Ilarem and the surrounding regions, visiting with her, or 
alone, all such objects and places as were worthy to be 
seen, either for their present interest and beauty, or for 
their connexion with the early history of our people. 
In these brief journeyings I saw and discoursed with 
many of the inhabitants of these parts of Judea, in every 
condition of life. Among all I discovered a temper of 
dissatisfaction, and undefined desires and expectations 
of somewhat soon to be unfolded of advantage and 
glory to the land. Some great one is to arise, they arc 
sure, who shall fulfil in his person and his deeds, and 
the power of his dominion, all that seems to them fore- 
told by their prophets. They have been much stirred 
by the sudden appearance of this J ohn of Hebron on the 


\y 


164 


JULIAN. 


banks and in the wildernesses of Jordan; but they do 
not see in him the signs of that power whose approach 
they are expecting, though they hold him to be one sent 
of God. We all desire to hear and know more of him. 
But, as we learn, he is now in upper Galilee. 

Onias has been absent many days, insomuch that 
Judith wonders greatly thereat. 

No more, my mother, at present. Name me with 
affection to our neighbors and friends, and especially to 
Hirpinus and Lucretius, who are returned, as I have 
heard, suddenly to Rome. Thou shalt soon hear again. 
Farewell. 


JULIAN. 


165 


VIII. 


I keep my promise, my mother, and again present 
myself with wishes of health and peace. 

Now when Onias had been absent, as I have said, 
many days, to the great concern of Judith, — which in 
these times is not strange, for so much does wickedness 
abound in all parts of the land, that it is not without 
danger that any one trusts himself in remote or unfre- 
quented places, — he at length returned in safety indeed, 
but as it seemed also, in no small perturbation of mind. 
His manner was more close and dark than even that 
which is usual with him, and it was a long time before, 
by our approaches, whether more or less direct, we 
could arrive at the causes of his discomposure. Judith, 
by her playfulness at some seasons, and her deep earnest- 
ness at others, seldom fails to reach her father’s inward 
ear ; and though he at times turns away even from her, 
yet is it done never with severity, or as if it were pos- 
sible for any word from her to offend him. Although 
her questions now seemed to grate with harshness on his 
spirit, yet he refused not to answer them. “ W e have 
missed you greatly, father, these many days. But since 
you have been in kings’ palaces we look to you to 
make amends for your long absence, by the agreeable 
things you have to tell us. Saw you the fair daughter 
of Arabia 1 They say she is unhappy.” 


160 


JULIAS. 


“ Who says so 1” asked Onias. 

“Surely,” said Judith, “you have heard it many 
times. I speak but the common rumor.” 

“ I know not how it is,” replied Onias. “ It is a pity 
if it be so. The great should never marry, — or not till 
their greatness is reached, and they can take their equal.” 

“ Because one is great then,” exclaimed J udith, “ he 
must no longer be a man ! Truly I think as to the 
women of Judea, they would rather marry a man for 
the reason that he hath the affections of a man, than 
because he has the greatness of a king or hero.” 

“ Yet,” answered Onias, “ a man may find all in one, 
which Herod hath not. The daughter of Aretas hath a 
seemly beauty enough, if one, great like Herod, should 
have regard to the poor varnish, easily spoiled of a fair 
skin — beauty more than enough to satisfy him, — but the 
wife of Antipas should show other and greater qualities.” 

“Surely she hath goodness,” said Judith, “so the 
world reports of her. And is that not much 1” 

“ But,” said Onias with force, “ she hath not great- 
ness. She is no meet companion of a king.” 

“ Alas for us,” rejoined Judith. “ Let me die a maid. 
As I have ever judged no greatness is greater than a 
true love. But this I see is woman’s folly. — The poor 
lady must be unhappy I think ; and all we have heard 
of Herodias is now, I doubt not, true. Herod’s jour- 
neys to Jerusalem are in search of greatness. I mar- 
vel how the Arabian king will take these rumors. 
Methinks, if he be as fathers should be, Herod will have 
his hands more than full.” 

Seeing Onias to be disturbed, I asked, to divert the 
conversation tc another subject, if at Machaerus, he had 


JULIAN. 


167 


learned anything concerning the affairs of Caesarea. 
This gave a new turn to his thoughts, but at first, I 
feared, hardly a more grateful one, for he was manifestly 
troubled. But he spake with freedom. 

“ Caesarea,” he replied, “ is, as I learn, still at peace. 
But between Pilate and Herod there is growing up dis- 
cord, springing from that affair. Angry letters have 
passed between them. Pilate hath even thrown upon 
Herod the blame of my presence and taking part in the 
fight ; and though he hath not continued to require my 
being delivered into his hands, as at first he did, he doth 
demand that the citadel of Beth-IIarem be surrendered 
to the Roman forces to be occupied by them. To this 
Herod must yield, — he can do no otherwise, — so that in 
not many days troops from Caesarea will cross the 
Jordan on this errand.” 

“It appears to me,” I replied, “ an unreasonable meas- 
ure of precaution much beyond any possible danger to 
Rome, to set a garrison to watch an individual — a vine- 
dresser here on the banks of the Jordan. Pilate’s 
vigilance in Caesarea was by no means in proportion to 
this.” 

“ Doubtless, Julian, it is so. That is very true. It 
seems so, indeed. What then is true, but that Pilate 
sees deeper than does the common eye, and discerns 
dangers brewing of which others are not aware.” 

“But what other dangers are there, that Rome should 
stand in fear of]” I asked. “I can see none. The 
people of these regions seem quiet and at peace.” 

“So they appear,” replied Onias. “Surely there is 
nothing that show's otherwise. The Jew is all too well 
disposed to peace. In that rogue Jael, who keeps the 


168 


JULIAN. 


inn at Thebez, you may behold one whom half the Jews 
of the land are not ashamed to resemble. Neverthelc ss 
there are others, if in the comparison few, who are of 
another mind. There may be danger from these. The 
cold rocky ground often covers over hidden and fatal 
fires.” 

“You utter yourself darkly, father,” said Judith; 
“ your words hint at more than they speak.” 

“Be content, my daughter, w'ith so much; neither 
look farther nor deeper than the words themselves 
which I have spoken. But" whether there be danger, or 
not, I cannot like to see Romans in the citadel of Beth- 
Harern.” 

In this manner did Onias communicate with us on his 
return from the fortress of Machserus. What his ap- 
prehensions really are I cannot tell, for he plainly is not 
disposed at present to make even Judith a partner of 
his thoughts. It seems not to be believed that Pilate 
should have any such fears of Onias or myself, as to 
render so strong a measure necessary as that which he 
is about to take ; and in my judgment he hath seized 
upon the affair at Caesarea merely as a pretext, which 
with the people will possess some show of reason and 
be abundantly justified at Rome, for taking possession 
of a . strong-hold, which in the occurrence of hostilities 
would be of so great advantage to the stronger party. 
Herod, is greatly and justly incensed at so high an act 
of usurpation on the part of Pilate, for Beth-Harem lies 
within the boundaries of his tetrarchy, and is secured to 
him by the same acts of the senate which have given 
him his dominion. But what people are secure against 
the aggressions of Rome or her governors, when it suits 


JULIAN. 


100 


their purposes to encroach upon them ? The posses- 
sions of any King tributary to her stand but in a breath. 
A word spoken beyond the seas in the heart of Italy, 
and thereupon distant empires are dismembered, kings 
and princes dethroned, treaties violated, territories alien- 
ated, honor, justice, and mercy trampled under foot. 
Herod has no power to contend with Rome. He can 
but remonstrate — and submit. But the friendship, 
which hath heretofore subsisted, between the Roman 
Governor and the Jewish Prince is from this moment 
at an end ; and the mutual offences, which will now be 
given and taken on the one side and the other, it is not 
difficult to foresee will ere long lead to serious misun- 
derstandings or open feud. 

A few days have passed away, and what Onias feared 
and foretold has come to pass ; the Roman power has 
made a secure conquest in Beth-Harem. We have wit- 
nessed the arrival of the Roman troops, and the depart- 
ure of those of Herod. The populace of Beth-Harem 
were much stirred, when they beheld the soldiers of 
their own prince giving way before the arrival of those 
of their oppressors. As it was known both by couriers, 
who had gone before, and by the distant clouds of dust 
and sounds of martial music, that the Romans were 
actually approaching, the inhabitants of the town poured 
forth, both for the purpose of beholding the scene and 
of giving vent to their displeasure in insults and re- 
proaches. We also repaired to the plains, just without 
the walls, and standing beneath the shade of the groves, 
which on this side the town everywhere encompass it 
to which the inhabitants constantly resort for their 
Wol. I. — 15 


170 


JULIAN. 


recreations during the warmer days of summer, we 
awaited the approach of the soldiers. While here we 
perceived, that the people were well disposed to stir up 
strife whenever the soldiers should appear, to which 
they were diligently encouraged by many of the chief 
citizen 3, who, not less than the rabble of this strange 
people, seem ever ready for tumult, though nothing be 
to be gained thereby. They seem to have no control 
over their passions or of their expression, but utter 
freely whatever they conceive in their minds, regardless 
of the possible or probable consequences, which such 
rashness may draw after it. As we stood conversing 
we observed a large multitude posting themselves be- 
fore the gates of the town, as if by merely placing 
themselves there, they could obstruct the entrance of an 
armed force, while the most that could happen would 
be throwing an obstacle in their way for a few moments, 
in doing which many might in the confusion be trampled 
to death, while no possible benefit could accrue. Nor 
were the Priests and Rulers of the Synagogue, Sham- 
mai and Zadok, ashamed to be among them, giving edge 
to their passions by their gestures and language. Zadok 
— the more zealous of the two, whom I had before seen 
in Beth-Harem on the Sabbath — when he had suffi- 
ciently bestowed his counsel on the rabble, came toward 
us, just then when by the braying of instruments and 
the neighing of horses we knew that the Romans were 
at hand. 

“ Well met, Onias,” he cried, as he joined us hot with 
his exertions, and covered with dust, “ and you too, Sir 
Roman — and — laying his hand on his breast, or rather 
on his beard, which swept over it, and bending his head 


JULIAN. 


171 


toward J udith — thou also, fair Rose of Sharon ; hut, 
daughter, there will be dust on thy leaves if thou stand- 
est here, and that too from filthy Roman feet. Get thee 
farther back, child. Look to this flower, Onias, let it 
not be soiled.” 

“ Mind not me,” said J udith ; “ it is not dust from 
without that is to be feared, even though it be from 
Roman feet. A breath blows it off again.” 

The priest cast a quick glance at the girl, as if suspect- 
ing a hidden meaning in her words. Judith immediately 
added, as if she had said nothing that deserved attention, 
“ Why, Zadok, dost thou set thyself to inflame the peo- 
ple more than is their nature ? Their hearts are already 
bitter enough, methinks.” 

“ An eye for an eye, young woman,” he answered, 
“ as thy princely father would say also, and this young 
cousin of thine too, if his face is to be read aright. An 
eye for an eye! Would it could be an eye for an eye. 
But it will be a long day before the Jew can do upon 
the gentile what he hath done upon the Jew. But a 
long day will have its end, and, may I be one to see it. 
There come the idolaters ! See their pride in scarlet and 
horses, in armor and in music ! Ah, if the sight of a 
mole is given me, their bones shall never rest in the 
sepulchres of their fathers. Who is he at their head, 
sitting forsooth as if he were Caesar himself'?” 

One who stood by cried out, “ That is Saturninus the 
Centurion.” 

While he spoke, various outcries arose from the peo- 
ple, while some brandished their arms in a threatening 
manner, or else sticks and branches broken from the 
trees, and others scraping up the dust in their hands 


172 


JULIAN. 


threw it into the air or hurled it against the soldiers. 
Just as the Centurion was passing where we stood, he 
could clearly perceive, that the entrance to the city was 
wholly obstructed by a crowd of not men only but wo- 
men and children also, who thronged the way. Although 
from the insults heaped upon him on every side he could 
not but learn what was the temper of the people, yet he 
evidently did not suppose, that the dense body of people 
before him was gathered there for any other purpose 
than to witness his entrance, for waving his sword, while 
he put no check on the pace of his horse, he made a sig- 
nal as if the way should be cleared, and as if expecting 
it would instantly be obeyed. But no movement fol- 
lowed. On the contrary the peopled pressed more 
closely together and increased their cries of rage. 
Whereupon the troops were ordered to stand still, who, 
though they were set upon in a thousand ways of igno- 
minious assault, yet took no note of it save to utter in 
under tones fierce and bitter curses. The Centurion now 
advanced alone toward the crowd, and speaking to them 
in calm and manly tones begged them “ not to hinder 
him in his entrance into the city ; he did not come to 
do them any injury, but on the contrary, while he should 
remain among them, hoped to be a friend to them, and 
protect them against any evil that might threaten ; per - 
haps he should remain but for a brief space, when the 
troops of Herod would be restored ; if they would retire 
and allow him a free and easy passage, and if those who 
had command among them would persuade the youths 
and others to intermit their violence, he would promise 
to do them no harm nor suffer any of his soldiers to take 


JULIAN. 


173 


any revenge for injuries already committed ; but other 
wise he might not be able to restrain their fury.” 

To this speech they answered only by fresh outcries 
and filling the air with dust. Perceiving then that the 
obstinacy of the people was not to be overcome, Satur 
ninus returned to where we were standing, together with 
many others of the principal citizens. Singling out 
Onias without difficulty as chief of them all, he besought 
him to aid him in his peaceful endeavors, that he might 
not be compelled to betake himself to measures of force, 
which he should be sorry to resort to, not less than 
others would be to witness or suffer them. “ It must be 
easily in the power of such as you seem to be,” he said, 
“ to divert from their purpose a multitude of obstinate 
persons, who can certainly have no expectation of either 
fighting or overcoming, and are only indulging their pas 
sions to our great vexation and shame.” 

Before Onias could utter a word in reply, Zadok 
shouted forth, “ Oh ! press on, noble Roman ! There is 
a manly victory before thee. There stand the women 
and little children of our city. Ride over them with 
thy steel-hoofed horses, and historians shall chronicle thy 
deeds. As thou didst in Caesarea, do here — ride swiftly, 
kill and slay.” 

“ Thou misjudgest Romans,” replied Saturninus with 
mildness, “ if thou thinkest. we would hurt the unarmed 
and helpless. But surely it is more than foolish to en- 
courage the people in these mad insults, which can at 
best have no other end than to convert' into enemies 
those who are now friends and well disposed to remain 
so ; but what thou wilt not do another will, and the gods 
be thanked.” 

15 * 


174 


JtTLTA'ST. 


These last words he said as he beheld Onias hasten 
towards the gate, accompanied by others, and make signs 
for the people to disperse. As the Centurion saw there 
was a hesitation among the crowd, some being disposed 
to yield and end their idle display of rage, he gave the 
order to his troop to advance at a good pace. Where- 
upon the whole body, nothing loth, set forward to the 
sound of their trumpets, and at a quicker pace too than 
they knew was intended, which had the desired effect ; 
for no sooner had they approached in this manner near 
the crowd, quickening their motion more and more, 
than the terror of the sight, and the fear of being tram- 
pled to death by those whom they knew they had filled 
with anger, caused them to scatter in great confusion on 
either side of the highway, many falling and rolling over 
each other, to the great entertainment both of the Ro- 
mans and all who beheld it ; not a few hardly escaping 
from under the feet of the horse ; nor would have done 
so but for the forbearance of the riders. Without further 
hindrance, then, they rode on to their quarters in the 
midst of the city. 

As the last of them passed within the gates, -we turned 
away towards thy brother’s, Shammai and Zadok accom- 
panying us. 

“ Ah,” said Zadok, as we walked along, “ doth it not 
grieve the heart of a son of the freeman Abraham, 
who wandered to and fro from Dan to Beersheba without 
let or hindrance whithersoever he would, and when it 
pleased him went even unto Egypt, his wife Sarah with 
him, and when it pleased him came back again, calling 
no man master, being a slave to no one, doth it not, I 
say, grieve the heart of one of this generation, to behold 


JULIAN. 


17j 


how we are fallen into this accursed slavery to the gen- 
tile — our towns held by his soldiers, our steps dogged 
by his tax-gatherers ?” 

“Yet,” said Judith, “is it better to wait the Lord’s 
time for our deliverance than seek it by our wisdom 
and strength. He hath promised, and the promise will 
be kept.” — 

“ Y ea, young maiden, as in the synagogue I have oft 
affirmed — to which thine ears I joy to perceive have not 
been closed. He hath promised indeed, and even in our 
day do we look for the fulfilment. Moses hath spoken 
of the salvation, and all the prophets. But holy Daniel 
— hath he not, in words not to be doubted or gainsaid, 
as I will show thee — ” 

“ Therefore, Rabbi, what I would say,” gently inter- 
posed Judith, — willing to avert the threatened rehearsal, 
“ is, that seeing the promises have been given, which be- 
cause given of Jehovah will be kept, ought we not to 
wait rather in patience times which he hath appointed 
for our redemption, than strive to hasten them by acts 
of our own. We are as the blind when we aim to look 
into the designs of infinite intelligence ; and as children 
who should think to move Mount Ilcrmon when we do 
aught in the hope to hinder or hasten them.” 

Zadok scowled at these words of Judith, but added, 
“ What the Lord hath done in the days past of our his- 
tory to the gentile, and the worshippers of idols, to such 
as gave themselves to the worship of Baal and Moloch, 
and even to their priests, killing and slaying, he hath 
taught his people to do. How oft by his prophets of 
old did he send them forth to destroy his despisers 
from off the face of the earth.” 


176 


JULIAN. 


“Doubtless,” replied Judith, “ it is that for which I 
would have our people now wait. Let the Prophet who 
is to come, and for whom we now wait, appear, and 
whither he shall lead let us follow, and what he shall 
command, let us do. But while he comes not, let us 
withhold our hand. It is his bidding that shall make 
deeds innocent, which without shall be black with guilt.” 

“ Thy words,” here interposed Shammai, “ are as those 
of the wise king of Israel — they are as apples of gold 
in pictures of silver.” 

Judith perceived as she thought, a hidden reproach in 
the words of the Rabbi, and feeling as if in her earnest- 
ness she had offended against what was due to her elder, 
her face was covered with blushes and fell upon her 
breast as she Said : “ Nay, Rabbi, I meant not to teach, 
but only to speak for the cause of present peace. Surely 
it can be of no avail that the scenes of Caesarea should 
be repeated in Beth-Harem. We there lost those whom 
we greatly loved, yet hath their loss brought no profit 
to our nation. The power against which we would con- 
tend is too mighty to resist, if God be not on our side. 
Alas! Father, forgive me; I fear I teach again” — and 
the fair girl covered her face with her hands. 

“We need,” said Shammai in gentler tones, “to be 
rather forgiven of thee. They who hold of Judas are 
apt to be of a harsh and hasty speech, which must make 
our peace with thee, my daughter. We are a fierce and 
contentious race.” 

We had now reached the dwelling of Onias. When 
we had entered, J udith hastened to offer for our refresh* 
ment delicious grapes with pitchers of wine just from 


JULIAN. 


177 


the presses, and water cooled with the snows of Lebanon. 
To the Rulers she presented with her own hands the 
bunches that were ripest, and fairest, and poured out for 
them the new' wine, mingling with it both snow and 
W'ater. Their spirit was greatly softened by the services 
of J udith, and by the cooling effects of the fruit and 
wine, and Shammai holding up the cup from which he 
had drank, and looking intently at its proportions said : 

“ Verily, Onias, the cunning of man is like the cun- 
ning of Him w'ho made him. How many are his de- 
vices for our comfort and adornment. Here is this cup 
of silver curiously wrought, from Rome I doubt not ; 
these carpets from Persia; these rich hangings from 
Damascus ; these couches of silk from the farther India. 
Wisdom, saith Solomon, is better than silver, or gold, 
or rubies. Yea, O wise man, so it is. Yet these are 
good nevertheless, and thou wast too wise to give them 
bad names. So again he saith, there is nothing better 
for a man in this life, than that he should eat and drink, 
which is also a wise saying. We may well call that 
wise which simply describeth a natural thing. It needed 
not he should have eaten so good grapes or drunk so 
good wine as these to have taught him that. Every 
man will say it, who in the morning riseth and findeth 
nothing better than a cake baked on the coals, with a 
piece of honey. As I think, it is only when a man eats 
or drinks that he can say his soul is without trouble. 
Verily he is righteous overmuch, as the great king saith, 
and one greatly impertinent moreover, who, like the 
foolish Essenes, seeketh to please God by refusing with 
contempt the good things he hath taken the pains to 
create, and cause the earth to bring forth for his enter* 

M 


178 


JULIA Iff. 


tainment. It would be right, that such an one in the 
resurrection should be defrauded of his expectations. 
He that despiseth what the Lord hath made and pro- 
nounced good, should himself be despised and his por- 
tion taken from him. Daughter, this wine is good. 
Yes — that is what I would have — let it be filled once 
more. Onias, who is this Saturninus, as some one called 
him, whom we are to have to rule over us ?” 

Onias replied that he knew not. 

“ Perhaps then,” continued the ruler, “ our young 
Roman knoweth him.” To this I answered that I knew 
only his name, that he was of a good family (the family, 
my mother, of M. Scsevola Saturninus) and had served 
with credit in the army. 

“ May he and his army perish,” cried Zadok, “ ere 
they leave the walls of Beth-Harem.” 

“ In the meanwhile,” said Onias, “ it were better that 
the people trouble him not. What is done, let it be 
done, not as to-day.” 

“ Ah, Onias, I see thee. Thou wouldst take them by 
craft, thou wouldst catch them by subtlety.” 

“ I would not catch them at all,” Onias replied, “ but 
let them dwell among us in peace. When the time 
cometh it will be seen that it is come. I shall trust to 
see this same Saturninus and know him.” 

So we conversed of many things, till Shammai, be- 
thinking himself of affairs that required his presence, 
took his departure, Zadok accompanying him. The 
elder of the two rulers — Shammai — is one whom for 
many things both Judith and Onias esteem; while for 
other reasons they think bul lightly of him. He is, if 
one may say so, a sort of Epicurean in a Jew’s dress — 


JULIAN. 


179 

and among what nation, tribe or religion is not the Epi- 
curean to be found ? The dispositions which nature 
hath given him are such as inspire affection ; but the 
boldness with which he administers the office of ruler 
of the synagogue, while in his heart he doubts or dis- 
believes the faith of which he makes so open a pro- 
fession, causeth him to be treated not so much as a 
friend whom they can admit to their entire confidence 
and love, as one whose cheerful presence and discourse 
add greatly to the pleasures of any society of which he 
makes a part. Ilis years ensure him reverence. Judith, 
indeed, having known him from a child, doth more than 
reverence him. Of Zadok thou shalt hear another time. 


180 


JTTLTAN. 


IX. 

Tiie longer I remain among this people, my mother, 
the more strange do they seem ; but the more too do I 
become bound to them, and especially to the members 
of this household. They are a people beyond any other 
religious, and yet, as I suppose, beyond any other super- 
stitious and wicked ; which seems to proceed from this, 
that they make distinctions between the worship of God, 
and virtue ; and consider these two things as not neces- 
sarily joined together. Not but what the same error is 
to be observed elsewhere, but that here it appears to be 
more universal. Prayers are made upon all occasions, 
and in all places, but they are a ceremony by them- 
selves; and being once said, the matter is over; so 
much was due to God by command, agreement, or cus- 
tom, or tradition, and the debt has been paid. Then 
how their life shall be ordered is another affair, and 
governed by interests, rules, and motives which belong 
to itself. Some who are esteemed to stand at the head 
of the religion, and who generally are of the Pharisees, 
are as remarkable for their want of goodness, or rather 
as notorious for their vices, as for their piety toward 
God shown in a strict observance of the Sabbath and 
the least points of the Law. So long as religion shall 
be held as somewhat distinct from virtue must it con- 
tinue to be so ; and so long will the faith in one God, in 


JULIAN. 


181 


which we may justly boast over all other nations, be 
little better for the interests of goodness than the Ro- 
man’s faith in many. 

But at the same time it is true, that some have been 
instructed even as it was my fortune to be by thee. 
Their religion hath been connected with their life ; their 
many prayers and fastings, their sacrifices and offerings, 
their goings up to the feasts, their observance of the 
law to its smallest requirement in every outward rite 
and act, has all been done not in the place of virtue, but 
in addition and as incentives to it. Of this sort I need 
hardly say to thee are Onias and Judith. They are 
careful observers of the law; but while exact in the 
mere ceremonial part, they are even more exact in 
what pertains to righteousness. Nay, they would by 
many be thought to neglect observances on which others 
greatly pride themselves, though none can be found to 
charge the m with any infringement of the greater mat- 
ters of the law. The hypocrisies and over-righteousness 
of the Pharisees are not theirs, nor the indifference of 
the Sadducees. They believe in Moses and the Pro- 
phets — in the law that guides them in this life, and in 
the resurrection at the last day, for which the law fits 
them by its commands. But they pretend not to more 
than they have. They are content to do what to them 
seems necessary, without seeking to gain the admiration 
of others by extraordinary acts of piety and the observ- 
ance of all the lesser points of the law. Truly, their 
lives are beautiful. Onias indeed oftentimes seems 
severe and harsh ; but he is a just man and fears God. 
and serves him in that very way which to him seems 
right. The law with the traditions, which are its inter- 
Vol. 1 — 16 . 


182 


J rLT AN. 


pretation, are to him the lights — the greater arid the 
lesser, by which he draws every breath and shapes 
every step in life. lie asks for no more or better. He 
sees no defect, there is nothing incomplete to be sup- 
plied. If the law were truly kept, Israel, he says, would 
rise to her proper glory, and would overshadow the 
whole earth, — prosperity and riches, and love and glory 
"would make the land of Judea the wonder of the earth, 
and the seat of an everlasting kingdom, for its felicity, 
like the paradise of the first pair. 

Judith, though her reverence for the law is great, and 
though she reads diligently the prophets, and observes 
their precepts, and performs the required rites, is yet 
secretly sad and unsatisfied. So much have I gathered, 
not from any set disclosure she hath made of her 
thoughts, but rather from the language of her counten- 
ance, from words that have dropped from her, and yet 
more from what she hath not said when certain subjects 
have formed the matter of discourse. With the rest of 
the people she is anxiously dwelling on what the future 
shall reveal, but differing from them, her hopes are of 
some one, who shall prove himself to be a reformer of 
the manners of her nation, as much and as well as the 
subduer of her enemies. She thinks that the medicine 
needed is partly that which shall purge the heart. So 
that when she speaks of the Messiah, it is as a prophet 
and a priest that she delights chiefly to regard him. 
She asks for a teacher and a guide, who shall lead her 
farther into a knowledge of God and of things invisible, 
than she can now penetrate. The priests of the law do 
not give her what she asks — the law itself is dark and 
refuses to speak of the things of which she desires most 


JULIAN. 183 

to learn. The harp of David, though the music is 
sweet, and all the tones it speaks find an accordant re- 
sponse in her soul, yet are not its notes enough to 
answer one by one to the wants she feels. The har- 
mony is not complete. 

For myself, my mother, I judge that this people want 
liberty first — truth afterwards. The truths for which a 
soul like Judith’s sighs would fall on stony ground 
falling upon the hearts of slaves. In the slave the 
thoughts are bound as well as the limbs. They cannot 
think or feel as men, who cannot move and act as men. 
The outward bondage becomes necessarily one that is 
inward also, seeing the body and the mind are one. Is 
it not in vain therefore to look for any great advantages 
to come from a prophet, who shall not first appear 
and act in the character of a deliverer and conqueror 1 
So thinks Onias, and so thinks the nation. When the 
looked-for Messiah shall appear, it is certain, so judges 
the whole people, that he will appear as one who shall 
first of all bring deliverance to the captive, and a ran- 
som for such as are under bonds ; nor can any signs in 
heaven or on earth show the approach of the true Shiloh, 
but such as proclaim him prince and conqueror. 

How astonishing the news I hear through thy letters 
and the common channels of the present ascendency and 
power of Sejanus ! With any due proportion of hu- 
manity and modesty it is not to be doubted, that he 
might have founded a name and authority that might 
have overshadowed Tiberius. But, surely, the gods 
having now decreed his destruction have made him 
mad. Is it possible Romans should endure such re- 


1/ 




184 JU'LIAW. 

morscless cruelties % What a fate is this 3f a city and 
empire like Rome, — with an emperor buried in a desert 
island, old in years and older in crime, feebler through 
lust and intemperance than through age, the object of 
universal detestation, yet ruling these many millions 
with the mere breath of his mouth, and besides him, 
this second self in Rome, carrying on his own schemes 
of cruelty and ambition, pleasing his great master in 
proportion to his excesses, since the iniquity of the 
satellite serves as a shield for that of the principal. 
When will the justice of God overtake such wicked- 
ness 1 ? You are alarmed, my mother, at such language, 
lest spies and informers should bear it to the secret 
tribunals of power. Be not afraid. My letters are en- 
trusted to none but known and faithful hands. Besides 
we are not of the noble Roman families. We are not 
a mark high enough for the emperor or his tool. 
Nevertheless read them in secrecy, with doors and win 
dows closed ; and then carefully conceal or destroy 
them. 

The coming to Beth-Harem of C. Sentius Saturninus 
my mother, has, both to the inhabitants of the city and 
to us of the household of Onias, proved anything rather 
than an evil. His presence, together with his soldiers, 
has acted as a wholesome restraint on the licentious 
rabble, and the quarrelsome factions within the walls, 
keeping or restoring peace where Herod’s authority 
was wont oftentimes to fail ; and to us he shows him- 
self well disposed to cultivate our society and friend- 
ship, and make himself of service in many ways. 
When the duties of his office allow him a season of re- 
creation, he seeks the precincts of thy brother’s dwell- 


JULIAN. 


1S5 


ing, and either walking up and down on the banks of 
the Jordan in company with thy son and niece, sitting 
under the vine-covered arbor, of which 1 have told thee, 
or else at the table, partaking of the hospitality of 
Onias, we have enjoyed many hours of agreeable inter- 
course. He is youthful for the rank he holds, but his 
great merit in campaigns, both in Germany and the 
East, have won for him early advancement. The qual- 
ities of his heart are as remarkable, as those of his intel- 
lect; so that even in the army he has been called the 
good Centurion. If rigorous in preserving discipline, 
he is not unnecessarily severe. Ilis justice may always 
be relied upon ; and when he punishes, it is against the 
feelings of his nature ; he would pardon if it could be 
done with safety. 

It was the last Sabbath that Onias made a supper for 
Saturninus, at which sat down many guests besides. 
Shammai, Eliel, Zadok, and Eleazer, rulers, and doctors 
of the law from Beth-Harem were also there. The 
house was bright with the multitude of lamps, and the 
tables bent beneath the wealth both of the service and 
of the meats with, which it was loaded. Music was 
added to the entertainment, which came to us not too 
loud nor yet too faint, from a neighboring apartment ; 
and as the feast drew to a close, there were gathered on 
the grounds before the dwelling other members of the 
nousehold, the servants, the husbandmen, and all of every 
other humble office belonging to this great vine-dresser, 
where to the sound of the timbrel, pipe, and harp, and 
by the light of the hiding day and the new moon, they 
joined in dances common to the inhabitants of the 
country. When we had sat at the tables the usual time. 

16 * 


190 


JULIAN. 


we then resorted to the portico and the rooms over- 
looking the Jordan, where for our entertainment we 
either watched the movements of the rustic dance, or 
fell into such discourse as our thoughts were led to by 
the time and place, and the objects around us. 

“ Thus it is,” said Saturninus to J udith, “ that you of 
Judea keep your day of worship. It is not so with 
your people, as I think, in Rome.” 

“So it may seem,” said Judith, “because there, by 
the necessary confinement of a city, our usages are not 
made visible to every eye as here, and you, I doubt, 
were never, when in Rome, within the dwelling of a 
Jew.” 

“ I must confess,” replied the Centurion, “ I never 
was ; but I can truly affirm that this has not been 
because of any hostility which I have entertained toward 
your nation, but simply because chance never threw me 
into their society.” 

“ I doubt not your word,” replied Judith. “ If it had 
been your fortune to have mingled with us in Rome, 
you would have found, I may presume to say, mainly 
the same observances there as here; for we are to a 
wonder the same people the earth over. How say you, 
Julian? for your testimony must be beyond dispute.” 

I said that it was certainly so. 

“ The stranger, however,” observed Saturninus, con- 
ceives of this day as if it were rather a day of fasting 
and worship alone.” 

“ It is far otherwise,” answered Judith. “ We wor- 
ship indeed on this day, and we rest from labor, as do 
also our cattle and servants ; but otherwise it is a day 
of feasting, not of fasting. It must be the strictness 


J ULIAN. 


187 


with which labor of every kind is prohibited which hath 
given origin to the feeling you have expressed. Labor 
is indeed absolutely forbidden — that is the great end of 
the appointment. Our merciful law hath taken good 
care of the humble and the poor in this, that the rich 
and the great cannot deprive them, nor even the more 
helpless dumb beast of this repose. No man however 
great in Israel dares compel the toil, or even permit it, 
of man, woman, or animal. This you will allow is both 
wise and merciful.” 

“ It is indeed,” replied the Roman. “ I wish that in 
this point at least, the law of the J ew were also the law 
of the Roman and of the world.” 

“ But,” continued Judith laughing, “ so exacting is our 
law on this point, that were you, Saturninus, to become 
one of us and were so much as to break the law in the 
least iota, even by bearing your sword or lance from 
one place to another, we should stone you even to 
death.” 

“ Alas then,” replied Saturninus, “ I can never be a 
Jew. But I suppose you speak but in jest.” 

“Well,” said Judith, “we are not so savage or so 
strict now. If you will become a proselyte, I can prom- 
ise you an easier yoke. Nay, for that, some of our 
doctors make it light enough. But that must not be 
heard by our Rulers. Shammai’s voice happily shields 
us. We need not fear being overheard, when he hath 
the argument.” 

A loud burst of merriment from the group of dancers 
betbre us here for a moment interrupted our conversa- 
tion. Judith, springing from her seat and beholding the 
gayety of the peasants, their wives, and children, could 


JULIAN. 


its 

not be restrained from joining them, but saying that she 
would return soon, bounded along the portico and down 
the flight of steps and in a moment was in the midst of 
them the merriest and most agile of all. Such an example 
being given, I was not slow to do likewise, so that till we 
were well wearied with our exertions we continued to 
mingle with the dancers and partake their pleasures. The 
delight which the accession of Judith to their numbers 
occasioned, — whom all of her servants and dependents 
seem so to love that her service is their highest pleas- 
ure, — was very manifest in the increased hilarity with 
which they engaged in their sport as soon as she became 
one of them. 

When we returned to the Portico, Saturninus was 
seated and conversing with the Doctors, whom we also 
joined. They had been evidently talking of the syna- 
gogue, for Saturninus was inquiring of Shammai, why 
the stranger from Enon had that morning been denied 
the privilege which he sought of speaking to the people, 
while others were freely allowed. 

“ Should a man,” answered Zadok before Shammai 
could find his words, “ who is a follower of one that is 
reported to be rather in the keeping of an evil spirit 
than of his own, be allowed to speak in the name of the 
Lord ? It is not every one, though he may esteem him- 
self wise and as one of the elders, whom we are ready 
to take at his own word. It was not hard to guess with 
what new insolence he would have entertained our ears.”* 

“ Nevertheless,” said Eleazer, “ 1 would gladly have 
heard what it was he was so swollen with. Ilis own 
mouth, I doubt not, would have condemned him more 
than any reproof of ours.” 


JULIAN. 


189 


“ So without doubt it might have been,” interrupted 
the bitter voice of Zadok, “ but so it might not have 
been, and had the bag of wind once found vent, who can 
tell what blasphemies would have flowed abroad, to se- 
duce, deceive, and pollute the hearer? What John hath 
done, he would have striven to do.” 

“ His mouth was well stopped,” said the other. 

“ Aye,” said Eliel, “ it was — for the people would 
have heard him gladly.” 

“ I should not marvel, if on the next Sabbath,” said 
Eleazer, “ they clamored more still to hear him.” 

“ Let them clamor,” replied Zadok, “ they are neither 
rulers nor doctors, nor will all their uproar make them 
so. There are the streets and the highways; let him 
use them, and none will hinder. Ere the next Sabbath 
it were no wonder if the half-witted populace of Beth- 
Ilarem took him for the Christ himself, as I hear in the 
region of Genesareth they begin to do his master.” 

“ So it is indeed reported as 1 learn,” said Eleazer, 
“ but it is reported also that he says plainly he is not 
the Christ.” 

“ He saith it to-day mayhap,” rejoined Zadok, “ but 
let the folly of the people in those parts increase, as it 
is the nature of folly to do, and carry greater crowds 
than now to his Baptism, and we shall see what his 
meekness will do. His sordid attire, his fastings and 
prayers are the gins and snares to catch fools, and when 
the multitude of them hath sufficiently grown, he will 
have cheated himself, as well as them, into an opinion 
of his own greatness he did not at first entertain. Fools 
make fools.” 

“ It were well, methinks,” said Shammai, “ if there 


190 


JULIAN. 


were not so many others to set gins and snares of the 
same sort to cheat those whose sight is small. If John 
catches the people in that way, he is not the first who 
by fastings and long prayers has gotten a good opinion 
among the people, which if they could have seen behind 
the veil of his prayers into his deeds, might not have 
retained its fragrant ordor.” 

It was easy to see at whom Shammai shot his shaft, 
for Zadok’s brow grew darker and his lips drew back 
from his long teeth as he said ; 

“ It is no crime to observe the law of Moses even to 
a ty thing of mint and cummin, that I have ever heard. 
The blessing of J ehovah is upon such. The law* is the 
law, and it is not kept except it be kept.” 

“ Most true, Rabbi,” said Shammai, “ In respect of 
the rites of the Law', they are delivered with exactness 
and are kept but in one manner. In respect of other 
things we have choice. They are not so weighty. In 
them justice may be put by for a time ; so did David. 
The Jew, who should strive to be more than he, surely 
w'ould seek to be righteous overmuch.” 

Zadok stroked his beard but answered not. 

“ But if that be truth,” continued Shammai, “ which 
we have lately heard, the v r orld will not long be afflicted 
with either the wisdom or the folly of this madman, if 
he be indeed a madman.” 

“ What is it ? wfflat is it 1” said Zadok reviving. 

“ Why this,” said the Ruler, “ that he is thrusting 
himself into Herod’s affairs, which is much as if he leaped 
into a lion’s den.” 

“That is news indeed!” replied the other. “Ila! 


JULIAN'. 


101 


ha ! I had not heard it. But what is it he hath done 1 
Let us hear it.” 

“ Behold now,” said Shammai, “ how this learned Doc 
tor scenteth evil afar off and snuffeth up the odor thereof 
as of a pleasant sacrifice. It were a charity to his soul 
not to answer him. Why is the heart made to delight 
in the misfortunes of others and vent curses on them ? 
The J ew by his nature, young Roman, curses thee and 
all thy people.” 

“ As I judge,” replied Saturn inus, “ it is the Jew that 
curses, and not the man who lives under the Jew. A 
J ew infant reared in Rome w r ould not speak such curses. 
Tt is your law that shuts your hearts against the love of 
others. Nature has no such tuition.” 

“ No, Saturninus,” quickly interrupted Judith, “ it is 
not our Law so much as the traditions which have sup- 
planted it. True it is, our people were made the instru- 
ment to destroy impure and idolatrous tribes, and have 
been instructed not to mix with any nations, worshippers 
of many gods. But this w’as, that a purer religion might 
be preserved among one people at least, that should be 
a pattern to the rest of mankind. The Jewish is the 
only people who cleave to one God, without image or 
picture through which to adore him, or by which to con- 
ceive of him.” 

“ What is it he hath done, Shammai,” said Zadok, 
with impatience, “what is it he hath done? let us 
know'.” 

“That is true,” rejoined Saturninus. “But it has 
availed little to mankind that you have held a better 
faith, while a spirit so hostile towards others has prot 


192 


JULIAN. 


vailed. For men are little inclined to copy those whom 
they hate, or by whom they are hated.” 

“ Doubtless that is so,” said Onias, “ but the truth hath 
been too great to be wholly destroyed in that way. Just 
as the sun shines through dark clouds and thick mists, 
so hath this truth shone through all our errors, vices, 
and wickedness, and cast some light upon those who were 
sitting in darkness. We have hindered it much, but not 
altogether. Our commerce, and even our wars, have 
served to carry it abroad.” 

“ Yea,” said Shammai, “ that is so ; but after all that 
hath been done for us, and in spite of the law and our 
worship, the Jewish world is but as any other. Jerusa- 
lem smells not sweeter, I fear me, to the Lord, than 
Rome or Alexandria.” 

“ The man is mad,” quoth Zadok, “ and speaketh blas- 
phemy. Verily, Shammai, it were a righteous act to 
cast thee out of the synagogue.” 

“Then,” said the ruler, “would there be at length a 
chance of my amendment. A man is rarely better than 
his companions.” 

“ Hear him !” said Zadok, “ Hear his railings ! But 
cease now, and let it be known what thou hast heard of 
John.” 

“ It is this only, that he raves madly against Herod for 
what he is reported to purpose concerning Philip’s wife. 
The king, trusting to have ended his iniquity in peace 
ere it got much abroad is now as mad as he.” 

“ Ah ! that is good !” cried Zadok. “ Now we shall 
see what a prophet can do against a king. Now we shall 
see how this tanner from Enon will bear himself on the 
Sabbath.” 


JULIAN. 


103 


“ Nay, they may claim thus much at our hands,” said 
Shammai, “both John and his disciples, that they are 
bold and fear no one, — and that is a prophet’s mark.” 

“ Now,” cried Zadok, “ let us sing hosannas. Sham- 
mai holds J ohn to be a prophet ! Let us report it in Reth- 
ITarem — Shammai, the learned doctor and ruler of the 
Synagogue, that stands between the market and the cita- 
del, and which once heard the voice of the great TIillcl, 
Shammai, the Hebrew, the Greek, the Philosopher, fol- 
lows after John of Hebron with an uncombed beard, un- 
washed hands, a beggar’s robe, and a leathern girdle 
about his loins” — 

“ The grinding of millstones,” cried Shammai, inter- 
rupting the hoarse sounds, “ the braying of asses, the 
shrieking of the wind among the dry cedars of the Dead 
Sea, the creaking of the wine press, are not to be named, 
Zadok, with the shrill trumpet of thy voice. Thou needest" 
not repeat thy proclamation, for it has already been heard 
beyond fhe walls of Beth-IIarem.” 

With these sayings, partly in jest, and as it seemed to 
me partly in earnest, these learned scribes and rulers 
took their departure, and returned to the city. When 
they were gone, it being still early, and the sounds of 
the dancers and their music being over, we continued 
sitting and conversing. 

“ These priests and rulers,” said Saturninus, “ take life 
lightly, if one may judge them by their words. They 
seem each as if two persons, the one light and sportful 
and open, the other standing back, close, secret, and dark. 
They appeared not to utter their true thoughts, but to 
be playing with the subjects that came up.” 

“It is partly so, indeed,” said Judith, “as perhaps 
Vol. I.— 17 n 


194 


JULIAN. 


with all of us, at least with very many of us, we .are ono 
thing to the eye, one thing on the surface, but another 
quite to him who hath sight to see beyond, and wit tc 
draw up what is there in the greater depths. Sometimes 
the outer clothing is the fairer and better, but often it 
covers over a worthier thing than itself, and conceals it 
from all but those gifted with a sharper and more pene- 
trating vision.” 

“Yet,” continued Saturninus, “in one thing they 
seemed to agree, in showing dislike of the prophet, who 
is said to have risen up, and to have commenced the 
labors of a reformer. But why should one be feared, 
who comes only as a teacher of virtue 1” 

“ The rulers dislike and oppose him,” said Onias, “ not 
because he is a prophet, if indeed he be one, but because 
he is not more of one. The common people, as you may 
have been told, crowd his steps and hear him gladly. 
They are caught with every one who sets up a pretension 
like this.” 

“ But,” said the Roman, “ even if he were no more 
than a reformer of the morals of a people, were I a Jew, 
I should receive him gladly. It were a happy day for 
Rome, could some one arise whom the gods should fill 
with a spirit and power to waken her from her slumbers 
of death. There are many there, whose prayer to the 
gods is, morning and evening, at home and in the tem- 
ples, for more knowledge and light. For the darkness 
now is one that may be felt. The people still worship 
the ancient gods with faith in them more or less. But 
the learned and the thoughtful ask for a better reli- 
gion than their ancestors have bequeathed ere they 
can give it their belief and their obedience. We are 


JULIAN. 


195 


buried in mysterious gloom. We grope as blind men, 
not knowing whence we come nor whither we go. Wo 
have an instinct, which teaches the reality of some Cause 
equal to the production of this broad world, and the 
overhanging sun and stars. But we know him not ; we 
know not how to conceive of him, nor in what manner 
with most acceptance to approach him, save that here 
also our instincts serve us somewhat, but guide each one 
a different way. What we mean by virtue, we are per- 
suaded with some general conviction, must be the most 
pleasing offering we can bring to the altar of the Supreme 
God ; but we know not in what proportion we should 
bring him that offering, or others of prayer, sacrifices, 
garlands, and music ; moreover we cannot tell how to 
think of our life, what it is, and when to terminate — of 
death, what it is, and to what with certainty it bears us. 
So that we of Rome long for nothing more than for a 
teacher and reformer, who should by his genius exercise 
authority over the minds of men, and by divine inspira- 
tions pour into them the light of truth. 1 would give an 
ear even to one of not more promise than this wanderer 
in the wilderness of Jordan, seeing that perchance he may 
be filled with a divine spirit — for it would appear that 
we are not able of ourselves, who see so little way, to 
say in what manner and with what appearances a mes- 
senger from God w'ould approach us.” 

“It is to me,” said Judith, “a pleasure to hear such 
opinions. Dwelling, even as I do, under a religious 
law, wdiich hath the true God for its author, even I 
desire a knowledge superior to that which now, as a 
people, w r e possess. And wuth many, with multitudes 
in our unhappy country, I w r ait for the redemption 


196 


JULIAN. 


of Israel, for a new comforting of the people of 
God. And with certainty do we look for a teacher, 
who shall complete and perfect the law now given to 
us, and establish us in a condition of virtue and happi- 
ness, as well as of outward glory, we now cannot so 
much as dream of. Night and day, day and night, do 
prayers go up from this whole people, from the sinner 
as well as the saint, from the child on its mother’s knee, 
as well as from him who is standing on the borders of 
his grave, that God would please to cause a new day to 
rise upon us, and his kingdom to come and be estab- 
lished in the midst of us. I cannot then but look with 
expectation toward every one who approaches and gives 
any signs that God is with him. What to think of 
John I know not, nor do others, as it would seem. The 
common people, who in some things see clearest— 
would not God endow them with a sense to know his 
messenger when he should come — follow after him, as 
we hear, daily in increasing numbers, and by baptism 
are enrolled among his disciples. Would he were in 
this region, that I might hear for myself and judge for 
myself.” 

“My dear child,” said Onias, “think not of John, nor 
of any great thing as to come of him. He is nought, 
stark nought. I too at first looked toward him with ex- 
pectation, or rather with a wondering curiosity, but 
God is not with him. He too is a deceiver, or de- 
ceived, like so many who have gone before him. In 
the early days of thy mother Eunice all Judea was 
stirred from its lowest depths, yet it proved in the end 
but a delusion of Satan.” 

“ Of whom and of what speak you 1” I asked, 


JULIAN. 


107 


“ Doubtless the knowledge of what I would speak of 
never reached thy ears, for it was before thou sawest 
the light. I speak of the child born at Bethlehem.” 

“Not even a rumor,” said I, “had ever reached me.” 

“ It fell out in the latter part of the reign of the great 
Herod. I even was but a child.” 

“ Herod I know ; and of him heard much at Caesarea ; 
but not of what you now name.” 

“Surely,” said Judith, “have I heard from my 
mother in my youth, tales of the wonderful child born 
at Nazareth or Bethlehem — born too I remember me in 
the stable of an inn, whom kings came and worshipped. 
The rest is gone from me, or has mixed itself with a 
thousand such tales from the far East.” 

“In Jerusalem and all the neighboring parts,” said 
Onias, “ as indeed throughout Judea, have fables, — some 
with portions of truth intermingled, passed from mouth 
to mouth. I then, as I have said, was but a child, yet 
did many things fall upon my ear, which sank in and 
have not since departed. But I rather speak of w r hat 
afterwards came to my knowledge. All Jerusalem was 
at that time in great expectation of the immediate ap- 
pearing of the Messiah, and ready to convert anything 
beyond the facts of every day into a wonder. Among 
a thousand rumors no one knew what to believe, and 
the events since that day have shown that there was 
nothing to be believed. But the stories handed down 
assert the birth of a child, as thou hast said, Judith, in 
the stable of an inn in Bethlehem, — whose parents were 
strangers of Nazareth in Galilee, — and whose birth was 
declared to some shepherds in the neighborhood of the 
town by a vision of angels. As I think, and as many 
17 * 




JULIAN. 


thought then, what those peasants saw was in their 
dream. Yet so confidently was the vision reported, and 
beside that, the appearance of a bright star, pointing to 
the very spot where the child lay, that many believed, 
and it came to be a rumor throughout the city and all 
the parts round about, that he who was to be King of 
the Jews was at last born. This coming soon, as it 
could hardly fail to do, to the ears of Ilerod, alarmed 
him not a little ; for it was not unknown to him, that 
the people were constantly looking when this future 
king should come and assume his throne. Nay, there 
were not wanting flatterers, who persuaded Ilerod that 
he himself was the looked for Messiah. But he believed 
them not. Yet not being ready to surrender his power 
into the hands of any other, and fearing, lest there 
might be some truth in the tales which were passing 
from one to another, and filled the city, he, according to 
his nature, determined upon a cruel measure for allay- 
ing his apprehensions ; for he gave sudden and secret 
orders for all the children in Bethlehem to be seized 
and slaughtered, that so the new-boni king might perish 
with them. Yet the order was not so secretly given, 
but that a warning came to many in season, who es- 
caped the intended destruction. Among them, it was 
affirmed by some, was the young child, though by 
others it was asserted that it had perished. But since, 
it has been well known that they fled — the parents and 
the child — to their native place, where they have dwelt, 
lie who was to be a king, quite forgetting his high dig- 
nity, living and laboring humbly enough, subject to his 
father as a carpenter. Wherefore the wonders related 
of his birth are thus shown to be delusions or worse. 


JULIAN. 


100 


The only thing we know to have been real was the do- 
struction of innocent children by the king, of which the 
parents of the child were the cause, either by their own 
acts and delusions, or the delusions and acts of others, 
which they could not prevent. Their own safety they 
effected, but left behind others miserably to perish 
through their means.” 

“ This is a strange story,” said I. 

“ Not strange to us,” replied Onias, “ who are evet 
greedy of what is marvellous, and who dwell on the 
borders of the land of fables.” 

“ Who,” asked J udith, “ were these people from Naz- 
areth, that they should pretend to the glory of being 
parents of the Messiah ? Is it not our belief, that he 
shall come of the House of David? Surely their 
lineage might be traced.” 

“ So much was true,” replied Onias. “ It was found 
that they were in truth of that family, though poor and 
unknown.” 

“ What, father, was the name they bore,” asked 
J udith. 

“ I have forgotten,” answered Onias ; “ nor do I re- 
member that of the child ; though among other feigned 
things it was sent abroad, that an angel had announced 
the name by which it should be called.” 

“ Were there many who gave their faith to such pre- 
tences ?” I asked. 

“ It cannot be denied,” said Onias, “ that very man} 
believed, and more waited in hope to see what might 
come of it. But the more wise and prudent saw not, in 
any of the things affirmed, the signs that should fitly 
announce the Messiah of Judea. Especially was it 


200 


JULIAN. 


clear, that he, upon whose shoulders was to rest the 
government of Israel and of the world, would not lirst 
breathe in the feeding-trough of a camel. It is not so 
kings are born ; much less the King of kings. How 
should the people of God know their sovereign in such 
a form, and how should they be guilty, should they 
reject or destroy him 1 After a time no more was heard 
of this wonder of Bethlehem ; and by the generations 
of to-day it is forgotten that such events have been.” 

“ So you will have us to believe,” I said, “ will it bo 
with this John of Hebron.” 

“ That,” Onias replied, “ is what I would say. The 
signs of Judea’s deliverer are not more in this baptizing 
v'anderer of the wilderness than they w r ere in that peas- 
ant’s child. And when the people have run after him, 
and fed their foolish hopes on chaff, they will return to 
themselves and wait. Many times have our hopes been 
cast down, and they will be again if in our folly we 
fasten them on this new' preacher. A good man he may 
be, but no more. He who is to come hath not yet come ; 
nevertheless he may not be far off, but standing in the 
midst of us while our eyes see him not. J ohn indeed 
speaks of one to follow him. But neither is it he.” 

Saying this, Onias rose and withdrew. 

When he was gone Judith said, “ My father will not 
believe until such an one appears as he looketh for, and 
John is far from that. But so I, Julian, cannot judge. 
Are w r e to say how a messenger of God shall manifest 
himself to men, or what form, whether that of a servant 
or a king, his Messiah shall take ? Alas ! for me a king 
were a small gift indeed. What to me were it if David 
again came forth from the grave, or his greater son, or 


JULIATf. 


201 


any of the Prophets, and erected here in Judea the 
throne which so many are impatient to behold? Of 
what avail were such an one to me ? My soul — and, 
J ulian, I am not alone — hungers for somewhat more 
nutritious, that can feed and support a higher life than 
that of the body — for an entertainment richer and more 
divine than could ever be had in a king’s palace. We 
have kings now, and courts of luxury. I could resort 
to Herod, or Pilate, or Philip, but what should I find 
there that I want ?” 

“ But, dear Judith,” said I, “ do you not now in saying 
this yourself commit the error which you have just 
noted in Onias ? He turns away from this wild man of 
the wilderness, this son of thunder, this unlettered and 
humble child of nature, this stern preacher of righteous- 
ness, because he does not agree with the picture he has 
formed in his mind of the Prophet whom God will send, 
when he sends forth his Messiah ; and do not you also 
make your own thought the measure of what God shall 
do, when you refuse your homage to a king? Yet, 
surely, when the prophets speak of him who is to come, 
it is of one who is to govern Israel, and rule over the 
kingdom of David — it is ever of the Christ as King.” 

“Yes, Julian,” she replied, “without doubt I have 
condemned myself. I am wrong. I should have no 
judgment in matters too high for the reach of our poor 
thoughts. And yet how can one, w ? ho feels the darkness 
within, cease to conjecture and hope, and look forward 
for that which the heart, as God hath made it, pants for, 
as the spent hart for the water-brooks ? But surely our 
wisdom is, as our office, to wait for the signs in patience 
of the soul, which shall give us assurance of the Prophet 


202 


JULIA??. 


of God whenever he shall appear. To you, Saturninus, 
these opinions I suppose are strange and new.” 

“ Not so,” replied the Centurion; “I have been long 
in Judea, and the faith and the hopes of her people are 
already familiar to my ear, and my mind. I have 
heard much of that of which you have now spoken, and 
ever listen with satisfaction to any who converse of such 
things, as thereby I become more exact in my knowledge 
of the forms of religious faith which prevail among 
your people ; and it has ever been the thoughts of men 
concerning their religious observances and doctrines that 
have possessed for me the highest power of attraction. 
As I enter the precincts of the dwelling of a new people, 
it is the first investigation with me, what is their belief 
of the gods 'l or have they none 1 or do they worship 
the forms of nature, and the instruments of her power ? 
Among you of Judea have I alone found thoughts of 
God, worthy of the mind to entertain concerning that 
being, whom no man can ever understand. I mean 
among the common people, and the whole people ; for 
among us, philosophers have long held and do now hold 
opinions on such things, hardly less worthy to be rever- 
enced than such as are apt to be found in your sacred 
books. But with you adequate thoughts and conceptions 
of the Divinity are a universal inheritance.” 

“ So,” said J udith, “ they may seem to you, when 
you place them by the side of opinions held by the 
Roman populace. But so they seem not to me, and to 
many ot our tribe who wait for the coming of the Just 
One. Our doctors and priests by their traditions, by 
which they have changed the law delivered by Moses, 
and in its place thrust their own figments, under which 


JULIAN. 


203 


they escape from the obligations of a true piety, and in 
its stead offer to God and man the dead sacrifice of a 
ceremonial exactness, have corrupted not only our re- 
ligion but the very hearts of the people, and with truth 
doubtless it may be affirmed, that beneath the fair and 
painted show we make of faith and love, there is hid 
unbelief, hatred, malice, and all uncleanness. The visi- 
ble and apparent goodness is as a treacherous covering of 
verdure and flowers over dead men’s graves, through 
which he who treads thereon falls into depths of foul 
corruption, that the mind dares not contemplate. Of 
your Roman people there must be more hope than of 
us, we having perverted and thrust from us a higher 
truth. I wait with hope to hear good things yet of John. 
As yet all that we learn is as nothing. We hear to-day 
by such as have come from farther up the river, that he 
declares himself to be but the herald of one greater than 
himself, but who that greater is, or who himself is, only 
darkly hints.” 

“ So,” said I, “ Ziba hath reported to me, receiving it 
from those who deal in news at Beth-Harem. The 
people, he says, are greatly moved with curiosity, many 
having gone up toward Galilee in the desire to see him. 
They were not a little enraged that the rulers gave not 
to his disciple, the Tanner of Enon, the liberty to de- 
clare himself. But in private dwellings they have heard 
him, and even on the steps of the market-place. They 
intend that on the next Sabbath his voice shall be heard 
in the Synagogue, if any power of theirs can bring it to 
pass.” 

“ The heart of our people properly so called, Saturni- 
nus,” said Judith, “is better than that of their guides 


204 


JULIAN. 


and masters, our proud counsellors and doctors. Among 
our sequestered valleys, away from corrupt cities, they 
are still in some sort a pure and simple tribe — believers 
Ur the spirit of our law as well as formal observers of 
the letter. Were a prophet indeed to arise, it is from 
them I should look for a just judgment concerning 
him, rather than from their masters, the Pharisees and 
doctors.” 

The moon now sinking below the horizon, and the in- 
habitants of the house having withdrawn from their 
amusement, the Centurion bid us farewell and turned 
toward the gates of Beth-Harem. 

It is not difficult to see, my mother, with what attrac- 
tive power Judith acts upon Satu minus. He can neither 
hear other persons nor see other objects while she is 
near ; nor is it wonderful, for it is the same with all 
who approach her. But it would, methinks, amuse the 
dark Pilate, were it made known to him, that he whom 
he sent into these regions to observe and control an 
enemy, is already, as it were, become the friend and 
associate of his household. He may indeed know this, 
and suppose that his spy has but so much the nearer 
access for his observations. And it would be so, were 
Saturn inus capable of playing two parts. But of that no 
one who had ever looked upon his countenance, in 
which are written*, in characters that cannot deceive, 
honesty and truth, could believe him guilty. He comes 
to the dwelling of thy brother as a friend, and will do 
none other than the offices and acts of a friend. And 
truly in this manner does he gain most successfully the 
ends of his sojourn in Beth-Harem. For no one could 
so secure the adherence and quiet of Beth-Harem and 


J~Shl \ V. 


2G5 


its suburbs, as by showing himself the friend and com- 
panion of Onias. But as friendly as he is toward Onias, 
so is he to the inhabitants of the city, and especially to 
the more religious among them. He has already con- 
ferred many acts of favor uyon the Synagogue. 

V CL. I. — IS 


LK 


Jl T MAf>« 


200 


d? 





Tiie beauty of this region, my mother, which lies on 
the shores of the Jordan, would delight your eye which 
so loves to dwell on the works of nature. If Tivoli and 
the Alban hills, the base of Soracte, the sea views of 
Baize and Naples, draw you so often from the heated 
walls of Rome, and send you back again so much 
happier and better, as you do ever affirm, not less 
would this Jewish world minister to both mind and 
body, to the eye loving beauty alone, and to the soul, 
seeking God in beauty as in all things. Indeed to thy 
spirit, which ever seems half caught away from earth 
by its familiar musings upon the future and unseen, this 
land would supply a nourishment others never can. 
Even I have come to perceive and feel the difference. 
It is like no other spot of earth. The mind thinks of 
the many times through so many centuries that the 
spirit of the Universe, the infinite and incomprehensible 
energy on which all depend, while from other nations 
he hath hidden himself in a silence and darkness never 
violated, hath here made himself visible, hath here con- 
versed with man, and taught and guided him as a child, 
that through one people so instructed truth might be 
then spread abroad in the world — and thinking thus, a 
dread falls upon it in the midst of the scenes, where 
such things have been, which, though it awes the soul. 


JULIAN. 


20 ? 


yet strangely adds to the pleasure with which it gazes 
and contemplates. The very leaves of the trees as they 
tremble on their branches seem shaken by the invisible 
God ; the dark woods and the silent grotto are here en- 
tered with a hesitating step, as if there especially -would 
be felt his presence. On the banks of the sacred Jordan 
the ear hears Him in the murmuring of its waters. 
And over the face of the whole land, and in the over- 
hanging air there seems brooding the spirit of Him, 
who hath indeed made all, and is the Father of all, but 
is in a nearer sense, as the past hath proved, the Father 
and Protector of this people, and may at any moment 
and in any place again make himself suddenly to be 
seen, and heard, and felt. Now especially are all look- 
ing and waiting for the place and the hour, when He 
shall shine forth and put in some soul his mind and his 
power, and establish his kingdom as of old in the sight 
of all men. Every rumor of what is strange is caught 
up and magnified, and wherever it goes finds those full 
of feverish expectations, who are prompt to believe. 
Is this feeling that holds all alike, the high and the low. 
the slave and the lord, the Pharisee, the Sadducee, and 
the Herodian, the mother and the child, the sound and 
diseased of mind, the whole and the possessed, the Sa- 
maritan as well as the Jew, — is this a delusion ? or is it 
indeed stirred up within us by the visitings of God him- 
self, as a preparation for that which is to be soon un- 
folded ? Oh, my mother, who can doubt, that hath 
dwelt upon the writings of our Scriptures, as I have 
lately done, whether it be of a divine origin, this gener- 
al moving and heaving of the common mind? The 
time spoken of by the prophets hath come, and as they 


208 


JULIAN. 


are true, must the kingdom of God quickly appear. 
And of. a surety if ever this people is to be saved, it 
must be now ; if ever they are to be snatched from the 
jaws of the devourer, it must be now ere they are quite 
swallowed up. A little while and they will be dis- 
solved and lost in the mighty mass of the Leviathan, 
whose teeth are now gnashing upon them ready to de- 
stroy. 

Concerning this I have now at length somewhat of 
moment to say unto thee. But let it come in its order. 

It was on the first day of the week, the day following 
that on which Saturninus supped with Onias, that I sat 
reading, not as in Rome, Ennius, or Virgil, or Seneca, 
but the Prophets, Judith with steps light as a falling 
leaf, drew near, and wished to converse. For Judith I 
was ready, alas ! how ready, to close even the Prophets. 
I saw at once that some trouble had come into her clear 
spirit to stir and cloud its depths. “ What is it said 
I, as she placed herself at my side ; “ your eye is often 
sad, but never troubled as now. Of what wouldst thou 
speak 

“ Of my father, Julian — of Onias.” 

“ And what of Onias ?” said I with alarm ; “ is it not 
well with him 

“Yes, it is well with him,” she replied, “and yet is 
he sick. He is not as ho used to be. He is silent ; he 
hears not what is spoken ; by night he wakes, and 
dreams by day. Then, as thou knowest, he leaves the 
harvest, and the care of his fields, where once was all 
his delight, for the company of those in Beth-Harem, 
whom formerly he knew not, for those long visits to 


JULIAN. 


200 


Machserus, and journeys to and fro over Judea. I know 
not what it all portends.” 

“ Confides he not in thee, Judith?” 

“ Alas ! not in all things. My mother, as I have 
heard, shared not only his love but his trust also. Me, 
though he loves as fondly as father, methinks, ever did, 
yet doth he still deem a child to be loved indeed, but 
not wholly trusted.” 

“ But to me, Judith, will he entrust less of himself 
than to thee. I am a stranger in comparison of thee. lie 
has spoken to me only of things common to all. On our 
journey hither, indeed, he talked more largely, but since, 
he has been closer to me than even to thee.” 

“ Yet,” said Judith, “ do I guess from the looks which 
from time to time he fixes on you, that to you he will 
ere long impart that, whatever it may be, which causes 
his anxiety. But I would that before that, nay at once, 
you might tear his secret from him, and so either deliver 
him from his yoke, or, if it be worthy, share it with him, 
laying on me also an equal weight.” 

“ Do you not,” said I, “ even so much as surmise what 
it is that hath so possessed him ?” 

“1 cannot, Julian, but think I do; yet may God grant 
it to be an error. I know nothing ; but, as thou sayest, 
I surmise. I fear then, that Onias plans a rising in 
Israel. Since my memory can tell of anything, it tells 
nothing with such clearness and strength as of Onias’s 
worship of the names and deeds of the Maccabees, and 
of Judas of Galilee. In the morning and the evening 
prayer these are the names, even with that of the Great 
God, first fixed in my mind. The petition, that God 
would grant salvation to his people in these times by 
18* o 


210 JULIAN. 

some arm like theirs, to which he would give his own 
strength, has been with him the first and the last, the 
alpha and omega, of his prayers. And when the oppres- 
sions of Judea have been named, he has been ever wont 
to pour forth, with even a prophet’s force, the wrath that 
has burned within him, so that our quiet vales have 
echoed far and near to the tones of his voice — when so 
roused the voice of a tempest.” 

“ 1 shall never forget it,” said I. “ In the streets of 
Cajsarea it towered over all the crash of the falling 
temple, the noise of the battle and the braying of trum- 
pets.” 

“ What I would say,” continued Judith, “is, that of 
late all this hath ceased. While his heart seems to burn 
hot within him, and the eye, starting and suspicious, 
shows that all is awake there — he speaks not of his old 
themes, and when of anything, of my veil perhaps, my 
sandal, or some idle household care. Then messengers 
arrive and depart in the silence of the night, and Onias 
oftentimes himself joins them — while upon me, though 
not indeed by words but otherwise more strictly, is en- 
joined silence and secrecy.” 

“ I cannot, my cousin, like you, compare Onias with 
himself at different times, nor note the signs which to- 
day make him unlike what he has been before. But 
neither can I doubt the truth of your conjectures. But, 
Judith* there is not within the compass of the hills and 
valleys of Judea, from the mountains of Lebanon to 
those of Idumea, a man for wisdom and power like 
Onias. If he be indeed laying, as he thinks, the founda- 
tion of a new Israel, he is a workman of whom we need 
not be ashamed, and who will put the top stone over 


JULIAN. 


211 


where he has laid the foundation for it. What he begins 
he will end.” 

J udith drew back, with pain and distress in her coun- 
tenance, as 1 said these words. 

“Oh Julian, and do you then think that such is to be 
the salvation of Israel 1 That the Saviour of our coun- 
try is to be one whose garments shall be rolled in blood, 
his footsteps marked by the slaughtered of embattled 
hosts, the devastation of cities and villages, and whose 
aim shall only be conquest and dominion ? It may be 
so. So our people will think it to be. But for me, my 
heart, blindly perhaps, cries out against it. Though 
Onias should grow to be king of all Israel with Rome at 
his feet — ’t would bring no joy to me. At Caesarea, 
surely, if I have heard you aright, you withstood the 
madness of Philip and Anna.” 

“ I did, indeed,” I answered ; “ but I might not there- 
fore, dear Judith, the enterprise of Onias. Philip was 
one — Onias is another. A rising in Israel, that was but 
the rising of an Israelite, as in Caesarea, I would now, as 
then, oppose as useless waste of life and strength, — 
though not as of itself to be held guilty. The slave may 
always turn on his enslaver, and plead God and the 
right. But when Israel — Israel through all her tribes — 
is roused, and rises in her ancient might, then, Judith, I 
shall be of her side, and my life, little as it may be, and 
with it all my wealth, shall be cast, a bubble on the tide 
of war, to bide the issue. And certain-as we may find 
it to be, that Onias is laying the plans which you sur- 
mise, so certain is it that that is on foot, to which it will 
behove every son of Abraham to lend his heart and 
hand — from which none but a traitor to his country can 


212 


JULIAN. 


turn away. It will be no affair of Caesarea or Beth 
Ilarem, but of Israel in all her borders.” 

J udith was silent. I saw that her disappointment was 
great at finding in me so prompt a defender of the cause, 
which she believed her father was engaged in originating 
or promoting. 

She could not conceal her grief. 

“ But if,” she again resumed, “ the purposes of Onias, and 
the enterprise he hath taken in hand be, as in the case of 
Cresarea, one narrow and confined — ” 

“Then,” I rejoined, “may you depend upon Julian 
taking the same part now as before.” 

“ Let me hope,” she said, “ that it will be so.” 

Saying these things she returned with a step less light 
and quick to her apartments. 

Many things have served to convince me, that Judith’,: 
conjectures are not without some good foundation. I 
too have noted in the manner of Onias, when present, 
and the manner of his absence, that which hath put me 
upon considering the probable causes of what appeared 
to me a conduct too unusual and singular to be the 
effect of mere accident, or a momentary humor. But 
what 1 had reached only through much reasoning, and 
bringing into one connexion things apparently diverse 
and remote, and was then after all an obscure and doubt- 
ful conclusion, was soon made certain and clear, and 
placed beyond question by the communication of Onias 
himself. By no means was I prepared for all that he 
unfolded, when, soon after Judith had left me, as I was 
walking slowly toward Beth-Harem by the early twilight, 
he overtook me and began to converse When we had 


JTJLIAN. 


213 


talked for a space of such things as first offered them- 
selves, and had advanced a little on the road, we came 
to a well which lies half way between the house of 
Onias and the gate of the city, whither the inhabitants 
often resort, that they may refresh themselves on the 
spot with its cooler waters, and bear them in pitchers 
and skins to their houses. Trees on every side shield 
it from the rays of the sun, save where the highway 
passes it in a straight course to the city, whose gates 
seen at a distance, seem to be a wall to prevent the fur 
ther passage of the traveller. All around among the 
trees, arc seats rudely constructed of rocks, nearly in the 
shape in which nature left them, but which, covered with 
moss or leaves that have grown up and spread over 
them, afford an agreeable resting place to the weary 
pilgrim as he arrives thus far on his journey, or to those 
who seek them for the cool air, or water, and as a relief 
from the noise and dust of Beth-IIarem. 

Here Onias led me ; and here we sat by the well side 
about the tenth hour. lie seemed like one who wishes 
yet fears to speak ; and while he fears and doubts, first 
discourses of many things about which he cares not. 

“ It was not far from here,” he said, “ that we first 
saw the Roman Saturniuus, as he advanced towards 
Beth-IIarcm.” 

“ It was but a few paces distant,” I said. 

“ Saturninus,” he resumed musingly, “ is a good man. 
He is a Roman, a sinner of the gentiles, but he is a good 
man. Moreover, he loves our nation, and already hath 
conferred many favors on our Synagogue.” 

“ He seems to me,” l replied, “ to be one to whom 
it is natural to do well ; and for whom it matters little. 


214 


J IT L TAW. 


whether he believes in the gods of Rome, or the God of 
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He hath that already for 
which alone we need a knowledge of the truth, virtue ; 
and it is enough.” 

“ For this world,” said Onias. “ But how shall he 
have a part in the resurrection, except he be a son of 
Abraham 1 The promises of Jehovah are to no others. 
Nevertheless, he is a good man ; and it were a pity evil 
befall him in this world, or the world to come.” 

“ As for the world to come,” said I, “ I am willing to 
to leave him to the compassions of God, which are more 
than man’s. In Zadok’s hands he would fore ill — nor 
would 1 readily trust him to Eleazer. It is well for 
man, that in the judgment day, a being of larger mercy 
than his holds the balance in which sin is weighed.” 

“ May l be delivered from the judgment of man,” 
said Onias, “ for his mercies are cruel ; nor would I that 
Saturninus suffer therefrom.” 

“ Why should he fear, or shouldst thou fear for him V* 
I asked. 

“ Julian,” said thy brother, “ he and his men are as 
those who once stood upon the plain by the Salt Sea. 
The earth is on fire beneath them, and is ready to part 
asunder and swallow them up. At a moment when they 
look not for it, yea when they are in security, at the 
feast it may be, or the dance, sudden destruction may 
overtake them.” 

Hardly doubting what the thought was Li thy broth 
cr’s mind, I yet asked him of what he spake, and whence 
the danger to Saturninus. As he was about to reply, 
the form of one walking toward the city drew nigh, and 
pausing at the well, then approached us where we sat, 


JULIAN. 


215 


and surveying us a moment, gave the salute of peace to 
Onias. The obscurity of the air did not allow us to dis- 
cern who it was, especially as he was much wrapped 
about in his garment, for the evening was cool ; but no 
sooner had he spoken, than we knew the voice of Zadok. 
I was vexed that we were so interrupted, but Onias 
seemed, on the other hand, glad that the Ruler was 
come, and acceded readily to his request that we would 
pass the gates and enter his dwelling, which was just 
within them. We accordingly rose from our seat, and 
accompanied him to the city. We were soon once more 
at our ease beneath the roof of the Rabbi, who gave us 
hospitable entertainment. Onias soon returned to what 
we had been conversing of. 

“ You ask,” said he, “ of what danger I spake ? — Za- 
dok, Julian, is of our side.” 

“ Aye,” said the Rabbi, “ that am I. Say on. Fear 
me not.” 

“ Of part at least of what I would say,” continued 
Onias, “ I doubt not, Julian, thou more than surmisest 
— that there is to be a rising in Israel !” 

1 said, that so much I could not but gather from what 
he had said at different times, and from t what I had ob- 
served. 

“ Yes,” said Onias, “ the hour has come, when once 
more Judea shall own her king ! The time for her re- 
demption hath drawn nigh ! — and but that in Caesarea, 
the tumult that happened there threw a hindrance in our 
wav, the hour ere this had fully come. A secret league, 
invisible to all eyes save those whom it concerns, binds 
together all parts of our land to our enterprise. In 
Galilee, in Samaria, in Peraca, in J udea, in Idumea, are 


216 


JULIAN. 


there those who stand ready and waiting, their hand3 
upon their swords and their loins girded — a multitude 
that no man can number. Who is he in whose veins 
runs the blood of a true Israelite, that will refuse to join 
himself to such a company — to those who, though they 
should themselves perish, shall purchase redemption for 
Israel; shall be the sacrifice with which the Lord shall 
be well pleased; shall lay the first stones of the founda- 
tions of that kingdom of our God that shall be everlast- 
ing. It is not thou, Julian, of the house of Alexander, 
who will draw back ! Since I saw thee in the fight in 
Caesarea, I knew thee to be an Israelite indeed, and what 
I have heard since from thee hath persuaded me, that on 
thee one may rely as a staff that shall not bend nor 
break.” 

I then was about to say what I had but just before 
declared to Judith concerning the extent in which the 
whole people were engaged in the present enterprise ; 
but Onias interrupted me, — 

“ I know what thou wouldst say. Fear not. This is 
not, Julian, a revolt on the part of Onias, the vine- 
dresser, nor on the part of Beth-IIarem and the country 
round about, nor on the part of the inhabitants of Perasa 
alone. It is not one against a thousand, nor a thousand 
against the innumerable hosts of Rome. But it is, or 
it shall be Israel from Dan to Beersheba, who shall rise 
as one man against the oppressor ! If with their hand- 
ful among the rocks and the hills, Matathias and Judas 
overcame the great Antiochus, and w r rought out de- 
liverance for Israel, how shall it be but that when the 
same Israel comes up, with all her hosts mustered and 
arrayed, and the Lord and his anointed to lead them 


JULIAN. 


217 


on, we shall again triumph, and more than triumph, 
over the uncireumcised, and upon the necks of those who 
have been our rulers, set our feet as kings and conquer- 
Cl's 1 ? Julian,” continued thy brother, with a voice low 
and mysterious, “ to the cars of one who is worthy to 
hear so glad tidings 1 say it, We have found the Mes 
siah !”• — 

“ Aye,” said Zadok, “we have found the Messiah !” 

“ And it is he,” continued Onias, “ who shall lead the 
hosts of Israel.” 

“ Yea,” said Zadok, “ it is under our king we shall 
fight.” 

“ What mean you ?” I asked ; what and whom mean 
you? — this prophet on the banks of the Jordan?” 

“ A man possessed of a Devil ?” cried Zadok. 

“ What mark,” said Onias, “ do we behold in John, 
of him who is to redeem Israel? What is he but a 
wandering beggar, if indeed he be not, as Zadok saith, in 
the possession of a Devil ? So in truth affirm, — and 
who should discern in such things clearer than they,— 
so affirm Pharez the Diviner, and Uzzi the Exorcist. Is 
he such an one as the people are looking for, and such an 
one as the Prophets have foretold ? In Ilerod ! Julian, 
in the Tetrarch of Galilee, do we behold our future king.” 

Neither was I wholly unprepared for this disclosure. 
Onias had more than once hinted his belief, and his fre- 
quent intercourse with Herod at Macluerus had con- 
firmed my suspicions. But though, for myself I was 
ready to give due honor to Herod as a king, I was not 
ready to own him as the great and expected Prince. 
And so, at once, I said to Onias. 

He heard me, and replied, “ Be not in haste to reject 
Vol. I. — 19 


218 


JULIAN. 


him ere you have known and seen him. As there were 
not wanting those who in former days believed the Great 
Herod to be the Sent of God, so there are not wanting 
a greater number who for better reasons put their faith 
in his Son. If it be the office of the Anointed of God 
to be the Saviour of his country, to drive from her bor- 
ders the Gentile, to raise Jerusalem from where she sits 
in sackcloth and ashes to her ancient pinnacle of renown, 
to exalt the law in the eyes of all nations and establish 
it, and bring under its dominion all the nations of the 
Earth, and if now, as all our wise men affirm, and the 
Scriptures declare, the set time is come, and the times 
of the prophecies are fulfilled, where shall we look but 
to Herod ? where are the signs for which we seek but in 
him ? He is already a prince powerful and wise ; his 
brother of Iturea is also a prince, of power hardly less, 
and in Jerusalem dwells Philip, who holds no small 
sway over the hearts of the people of that great capital. 
Moreover, an inward voice persuadeth Herod that he is 
the man, and they, who are wise in a knowledge of things 
hidden to common eyes, announce him such — diviners 
and soothsayers, they are of one and the same mind.” 

“Yea,” said Zadok, “it is so. Pharez and Uzzi both 
hail him king.” 

“ If Ilerod be not He, where shall we find him ?” con- 
tinued Onias — “ it is now, or it is never. The Prophets 
say now — yet I say again, where is he? Who will show 
him to us ? If Herod be not he, we may again lie down 
in despair, for there is no other. Over the whole face 
of Judea the eye beholds no other; and the days are 
fulfilled.” 

“ And who.” J asked, “ believe in him ?” 


210 


JULIAN. 

” There are those scattered throughout all the borders 
of the land,” he replied, “ who arc believers, and who 
stand with their hands on their swords, prompt to act 
when he shall declare himself. The Ilerodians, save a 
few, are with. him. No words are spoken; but the 
seeds of revolt are sown in all parts, and are taking 
root. And what think you when I say, that a league is 
made with Sejanus, whereby at the time that he in 
Rome strikes for the Empire, Ilerod strikes for Judea, 
and while the Tetrarch subdues the common enemy 
here and Sejanus there, as Sejanus will be Emperor of 
Rome — yet but for a season — Ilerod will reign King 
of the Jews.” 

“Is it indeed so?” I asked; for this I own amazed 
me. 

“ It is so,” replied Onias ; “ and the proof thereof 
thou shalt behold at Machrerus with thine own eyes. 
Ilerod has not been idle these many years, though 
others have slept. We have forgotten even ourselves ; 
but he hath remembered us. The secret chambers of 
Machserus shine with the arms and the harness of thou- 
sands, which he hath caused to be furnished and laid 
away in their dark repository. So is it in Beth-Harem, 
at Ilerodium, but chiefly at Tiberias and Sepphoris, in 
whose vaults are piled spear, and sword, and shield, 
javelin, and polished armor, for as many as for the love 
of Judea shall be ready to use them.” 

“ Let my eyes have knowledge of this,” I cried — 
“ though I doubt not thy words Onias — and — ” 

“Thine eyes shall sec it all,” cried Zadok, “and when 
they have seen, thou wilt say, the half was not told 
thee.” 


220 


JULIAN. 


Onias paced impatiently the room where we sat, as 
if he would break through its walls for a larger space. 

“Yea,” he exclaimed, lifting up his eyes to Heaven 
and spreading forth his arms, “yea, the time, the set 
time is come, and he will comfort Zion. He will build 
up her waste places. Put oiv thy beautiful garments, 
O Jerusalem, the Holy City. Thou shalt no more be 
called Desolate, but thou shalt be called Ilepzi-bah and 
thy land Beulah, for the Lord delighteth in thee. Mine 
eyes, even mine, shall behold thine honor, and shall see 
thine enemies, the uncircumcised and the accursed, 
broken, and scattered, and destroyed, as the chaff before 
the whirlwind, as the stubble beneath the flail of the 
thresher, as the fine dust beneath the hoofs of the horses 
and the wheel of the chariot ! Yea, let mine eyes see 
its desires upon mine enemies, and upon thine, O J eru- 
salem, daughter of God, and then, having seen thy sal- 
vation, shall I lie down and sleep in peace.” 

Zadok then took up the word, and in strains yet 
more triumphant, sang the redemption of Israel and the 
glorious kingdom of Messiah. 

If I shared their zeal in some degree, my mother, 
thou wilt not marvel, seeing it is now so long a time 
that I have laid aside the Roman, and stood forth a veri- 
table Hebrew. Yet can I not agree with Onias in all 
that he holds of Herod. It may be that by him as an 
instrument, and a forerunner of our Messiah, a way is 
to be cleared, obstructions to be removed, the enemy 
driven out, the land restored to its rightful possessors 
and governors, and that then the reign of the myste- 
rious Prince, whom all look for, but none seemeth to 
comprehend, shall commence, and its fruits bless the 


221 


JULIAN. 

earth. So much is certain, that of all who live of our 
faith and name, Antipas is he who possesseth more than 
any other the pow'er to do Israel a service, which needs 
first to he done, — raise her out of the dust and deliver 
her from her oppressors. Till there be victory over 
her enemies, there can be no peaceful years when the 
people, sitting under their own vine and fig tree, shall 
be free to listen to the voice of the prophets whom God 
shall send, or of eye so single as to acknowledge and re- 
joice in Messiah, though God should send him forth. 
Herod, with the people well disposed toward him, and 
aided by Philip, may do for Israel what Judas did and 
Matathias, and so doing, will do a work for which the 
ages to come shall celebrate his name even as of that 
Elias who is first to come. 

I did not refuse ere w'e took our departure from the 
dwelling of Zadok, nor did I wish to refuse, to assure 
Onias that heartily would I work with him in his enter- 
prise for the redemption of our common country. But 
first I required a more certain knowledge of what the 
Tetrarch had truly purposed, and of what he was truly 
capable to accomplish, and w'hether to the extent sup 
posed, the people of Israel would lend themselves to 
his undertaking. It was therefore agreed, that I should 
sec Herod, and from communication with himself derive 
the satisfaction, which one can only derive by conver 
sing with the principal of any affair that is to be prose 
cuted. 

To Zadok it seemed a thing already established, that 
the new kingdom was begun, and himself already one 
among the chief officers of the king’s court. He could 
speak only of the riches which should flow in from con- 
19 * 


222 JULIAN. 

quered nations and tributary provinces ; of the places 
of trust that should be bestowed upon suc h as, like him- 
self, were early in their zeal, and were known to him 
who should first fill the throne. His ambition hardly 
knew any bounds in these imaginary honors. Jerusa- 
lem — nothing less — would thenceforward be the place 
of his abode. Onias, though he seasonably rebuked 
such excess of expectation, yet in another manner failed 
not to utter the hopes lie could not but entertain of the 
happy changes that should take place in Judea, when 
Jerusalem and not Rome should be the centre, whence 
should flow' honors and trusts ; and which should then 
be bestowed not as now' upon the stranger, and the gen- 
tile, but upon the true sons of the Patriarchs ; and 
when each tribe, in its ancient dominion and limits, 
should enjoy its own prince on his own seat of judgment 
judging over it. 


JULIAN. 


923 


XL 

It lias seemed a strange thing to me, my mother, 
when I have thought since of my conversation with 
Onias, and Zadok, and of the disclosures then made con- 
cerning Sejanus, and the league which was about to be 
secretly formed with him, that I, who am still in some 
sort a Roman, should be privy to such a contract, made 
or about to be made, whose end and object is a revolu- 
tion in Rome, not less than Judea. A little while .ago, 
and l should have thought that he designed evil against 
me, who had held me capable, and reported me so, of 
any alliance with a spirit so base as that of Sejanus, or 
of joining myself to an undertaking that aimed at any 
alteration, or overthrow", of the pow r ers in Rome. But 
I now know' one thing which once I did not, that bis not 
w r e who shape our course in life, but Providence that 
marks it for us ; that ’tis not good alone that works out 
good in the plans of God, but evil also, and that so 
evil is itself, in part good. Thus as in the earth foul 
things, and things not so much as to be named, contri- 
bute toward the production of other things the most 
beautiful and necessary, and even poisonous things to 
the production of those that are nutritious or medici- 
nal, so wicked men are not wholly hurtful or useless, but, 
seeing that they must exist because human nature is such 
as it is, the) are made to work out ends of righteousness 


224 


J tTLIAN. 


through the providence of God, where they had no good 
intention or purpose themselves, hut rather the contrary. 
Wherefore it may happen, and so I think it will, that 
though Sejanus be in himself unworthy, he may through 
that which he shall confer upon Herod in return for acts, 
or promises on his part, greatly help the people of God, 
and their deliverance from a galling bondage. And, 
surely, little evil would be inflicted upon any, though 
the monarch of Caprese should be thrown from the rooks 
whence he casts those whom he desires to torment or 
destroy, and were buried in the depths of the sea. Se- 
janus for Tiberius might indeed be no gain to Rome ; but 
it would be no loss. As it is not possible to conceive a 
worse being than him whom we place in the sovereignty 
of Hell, so cannot the imagination form an image of a 
human creature, more -wicked or vile than Tiberius, and 
whether it is he or his parasite who shall rule in Rome 
ean matter little to its inhabitants. 

Since the evening passed in the dwelling of Zadok, and 
the conversation held there with the Rabbi and Onias. 
thy brother has returned to his usual manner, and ap- 
pears, as Judith asserts, even as was his wont, ere he had 
entered into the schemes which have taken him away 
from his homo, and filled him with anxieties and cares. 
There is to be seen in him the common effect of reliev- 
ing one’s self of a secret within his own household. To 
those whom he chiefly esteems, Onias now feels free to 
speak of the things which engage, or which trouble him, 
and by dividing thus the burden, it is more easily borne. 
Judith, to her exceeding joy, now shares his confidence, 
although she will not approve, as she doubts the wisdom 
of the plans he is pursuing. Of Herod she holds an 


JULIAN. 


225 


opinion, which no persuasion or reason whatever can 
force her to alter, and which allows her not for one mo- 
ment to look upon him as he is seen by Onias. Upon 
what foundation her judgment rests, I as yet know not, 
nor whether it be such as to warrant the strength with 
which she holds it ; but this is certain, that whatever 
judgment she forms is worthy to be well weighed, for she 
is both deliberate in forming her opinions, and honest 
and true as Astrsea herself. 

The reports which reach us of John, now called the 
Baptist, are of his gathering still more and more about 
him, and in a land already divided by sects of all kinds, 
of his forming yet another. By what he is to distinguish 
himself and his followers I know not, unless it be by the 
severity of his doctrine and manner of life. This, in- 
deed, is constantly affirmed, that he announces the ap- 
proach of a prophet greater than himself, whose servant 
even, he is not meet to be ; but who that prophet is he 
declares not, whether Elijah, or he who shall precede 
Messiah, or Messiah himself. He has already drawn upon 
him the hatred of the Pharisees, for he spares not their 
vices in his harangues to the people ; but he secures the 
regard of the populace, who ever love to hear their rul- 
ers involved in at least the same condemnation in which 
they are themselves included. Against Herod, however, 
as well as against the Rulers, the Pharisees, and the Sad- 
ducees, has he lifted up his voice, whose enmity as it will 
be easily excited, so he will find it more difficult to escape 
from or appease. Nay, as for that, there are none in the 
land, Greek, Roman, or Jew, Pharisee or Essene, Ilero- 
dian or Sadducee, high or low, from the Chief Priests and 
the council at Jerusalem, to the Ruler of a Synagogue, 


226 


JULIAN. 


whose enmity he will not rouse against both himself and 
his followers, if the same kind of speech continues to mark 
his preaching. On the coming Sabbath, in the chief Syna- 
gogue of Beth-Harem, I shall trust to hear what his fol- 
lower, the Tanner of Enon, who still lingers here, will 
have to say. 

The Sabbath has come and passed, my mother, and I 
sit down to relate to you such of its incidents as may give 
you any satisfaction. 

The household of Onias frequent chiefly a synagogue 
on the banks of the Jordan, not more remote in one di- 
rection, than is Beth-Harem in another. Often, however, 
they resort to that within the walls, of which Shammai 
and Zadok are rulers. Thither was I desirous to go for 
many reasons, but chiefly that I might learn somewhat 
more distinctly concerning John from his follower, if, 
perchance, he should be permitted to declare himself. 
The cool and balmy air of the morning invited me early 
abroad, that I might enjoy for a time the solitude which 
on this day I crave, and of late have been accustomed to, 
and might be among the first who should reach the syna- 
gogue. As I emerged from the shaded grounds of 
Onias upon the highway leading to the city, I found it 
already sprinkled with companies of those who, like my- 
self, were going up to worship. The scene was beautiful 
to the eye, presented by the forms of young and old in 
every variety of gay clothing, moving along beneath the 
dark shadows of the trees, which here border and over- 
hang the path. At the well, many stopped to quench 
their thirst with its waters, and others reposed a while 
on the rocks, or lay along upon the cool herbage. But 


JULIAN. 227 

this indulgence lasted not long, but was broken by the 
shrill echoes of the trumpets of the synagogue sounding 
the hour of the service. 

As we approached and passed the gates of the city, 
and entered the streets, the thinly scattered groups of 
the highway thickened gradually into a numerous throng, 
pressing forward in one direction. The noise of those 
who conversed with animation and energy, was heard on 
every side. Of some who were near me, I could not, 
without an effort, which I was not disposed to make, help 
but hear what were the topics of their discourse. One 
was loud in his complaints of Shammai. “ He preaches 
not himself,” he said, “ and those who would preach he 
hinders. Verily he chiefly loveth the wine cup, and for 
companions, not those who go up to the house of the 
Lord, but such as tarry long at the feast.” 

“Nay,” rejoined his companion, “but he is a good 
man ; he talks not so loud as others, and prays not so 
loud nor so long, but when he turns his back upon the 
synagogue, he doth not turn it on his prayers also, as is 
the custom with many.” 

“Ah, neighbor, thou ever findest an apology for 
Shammai. But he is just one of those who trust to 
what their mothers made them. There is not a precept 
of the law, nor a custom handed down, but he violateth 
it, as it shall be convenient Lest he should be righteous 
overmuch is his fear ; surely one without ground. Thp 
curse of the Lord will rest upon such. Zadok, truly 
savoreth of the former days. lie is one whom the Lord 
delighteth to honor.” 

“ Verily,” said the other, “ if the heart is to be judged 
by the breadth of one’s phylacteries, by washings, and 


229 


JULIAN. 


fastings, and prayers, then is Zadok a son of God, and 
there is none like him, for he holdeth himself not washed, 
if he have not removed his ring, though it be slight as a 
girdle of hair, and on the Sabbath treadetli not on the 
dried grain, lest he unwittingly do the work of the 
thresher. Then, when the first day of the week dawneth, 
let him who standeth in his debt beware of the gripe of 
Zadok. It is as that of death and the grave. No man 
can deliver.'' 

“ I never heard,” replied the first, “ that he claimed 
more than his own. Surely one hath a right to his own. 
The law is the law.” 

“ I know not that,” responded the other, “ if it be 
that the law is without mercy. The heart was made be- 
fore the law. The beasts, and even gentiles, feel pity.” 

“Justice before mercy,” cried his companion, and they 
were lost to my hearing. 

Others, as they walked slowly along, conversed of 
the hopes of Judea. 

“ It were truly a joy,” said an old man, yet moving 
firm and upright by the help of his staff, from the head 
of which glittered jewels of no little value, “ if one’s days 
might be prolonged to behold it.” 

“ Who can doubt,” said a younger companion upon 
whom he leaned, “ who can doubt, that even your eyes 
shall see it. Many scoff, I know, and say that we hope 
in vain, and that we are better now than we could be 
under any change. But they are worthy not so much as 
of a word of rebuke. The people judge otherwise ; and 
who can help believe, that it is God who moves in the 
heart of a whole people. If it be so, his kingdom is not 
fill’ off.” 


JULIAN. 


220 


“ The Lord grant it be so,” replied the other. “ I 
may not live to behold that day of glory, but, my son, 
Avhat with thy virtue and the wealth 1 leave thee, the 
fruit of long days of toil, what seat of dignity can there 
be to which thou mayest not hope to rise ?” 

“ Say not so, my father ; thy frame is firm yet, if 
aged, and it is age and its gathered stores of wis- 
dom that in the new reign will stand in the highest 
honor.” 

“ All my wisdom,” said the other, “ is folly. I have 
added gold to gold, and silver to silver, and how that is 
to be done I know well. But of the gentle studies that 
inform the mind with truth, and make it wise and hum- 
ble, alas, I am ignorant. What do I love this day but 
dignity and power, and what but these can my full cof- 
fers purchase? But these, my son, t^ey can purchase, 
and they are something ; aye, they are somewhat real, 
things which the eye can see, and the hands handle, and 
which will gain the worship of the people. What is 
wisdom after all ! I have secured the best.” 

“ ’Tis said, my father, that to-day we may know some- 
what more of John.” 

“ Why wilt thou speak of him again, my son,” cried 
the other with sudden passion, “ a madman and a fool. 
May Shimei’s curses light upon him.” And so, with 
louder voice and uplifted staff, he was separated from 
me.” 

As they were borne away, a voice addressed me from 
another quarter; “Can you tell me, friend, what this 
news is from Idumea ? 

“ 1 have heard nothing,” I said ; “ you, therefore, can 
inform me, at least of more than 1 know now.” 

Vol. I.— 20 


230 


JULIAN. 


“ What is reported, is this, that a prophet has appeared 
there also, about whom the people gather in multitudes 
and follow after him.” 

“ I think it cannot be a rumor having any foundation , 
Onias hath of late received letters from that region which 
speak not of it.” 

“ Nevertheless,” said he, “ it is boldly affirmed, and by 
those who come from Jerusalem.” 

“Jerusalem is full of reports and rumors,” I replied, 
“ apd nothing is to be trusted coming thence.” 

“That may be,” he answered, “and yet it may be 
true. Among so many lies as now abound, a truth must 
chance presently, that is my hope. Peace be with you,” 
— and he passed on. 

As I now turned into the street, which led direct! > to 
the front of the synagogue, up the steps of whi *h the 
people were hastening, a beggar seated on the ground, 
both blind and a cripple, saluted me, asking alms. “ For 
the love of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets, 
have pity upon me and give me an alms. JIow can I 
labor, having neither sight nor power of motion 1 The 
Lord grant thee prosperity as thou rememberest the 
poor.” 

“ How do I know,” said I, “ that thine eyes are blind, 
being hidden by that bandage ; and how do I know that 
thy feet are lame, doubled up beneath that pile of 
rags ?” 

“ Ah ! wretched man that thou art,” cried the cripple, 
“ to deride whom God hath visited with his judgments ! 
Blind Levi never spake false. At the house over 
against the fish market, at the sign of the Chief Priest, 


JULIAN. 


231 


thou mayest inquire concerning me. But stay, and bo- 
hold now.” 

Saying which, ere I could prevent his action, he tore 
the bandage from his head, revealing a hideous spectacle 
of the hollow spaces whence the eyes had been eaten 
away by disease, and threw aside from his limbs the 
rags that covered them, showing both his feet to have 
been destroyed by the same awful distemper. “ Behold,” 
he cried, “ what the leprosy hath taken, and what, blessed 
be God ! it hath left.” 

“ Dost thou still bless God,” I asked, “ when he hath 
made thee thus 1” 

“Yea, truly,” said he. “Should I curse him, because 
the warm air blows over me, and the food of the charita- 
ble still nourisheth me, and the music of their kind words 
falls upon my ear? If I see not, I can speak ; and if I 
cannot walk, I can sit, and creep. A penny, a penny for 
blind Levi.” 

“ 1 have not even a halfpenny to give thee,” I answered . 
“ but when the Sabbath is over, I will call and see thee.” 
As I thus replied, a loud and hoarse voice behind me cried 
out — 

“ The Lord bless thee, Levi, even though thou break 
est the Sabbath ,” and at the same time he who spoke 
showered down a handful of small coin upon the stones, 
and swept on his way with flowing robes toward the 
synagogue. The coin, which I could not give myself, I 
was forced to aid the blind man to gather up, thinking 
as 1 did so, that there was virtue in the manner of a 
favor, as in the favor itself. Bidding the cripple then 
farewell, 1 turned toward the temple, and passing the 
outer court, where were many who chose rather to spend 


232 


JULIAN. 


their time there in idle gossip, than penetrate farther 
1 entered. 

It was already fdled with more than its usual number 
of worshippers, nay all parts of it were thronged with 
those who .were drawn by a desire to hear what the 
Tanner from Enon might have to say, if, perchance, the 
Rulers should allow him to declare himself. The upper- 
most seats, being here as with us in the near neighbor- 
hood of the ark of the Law, were occupied by the rul 
ers, the chief doctors of Beth-Harem, both Pharisees and 
Sadducees, and such others as chose to place themselves 
there ; among whom I perceived Onias, and not far from 
him Saturninus. The services going before the preach 
ing, are as in Rome. When, accordingly, the prayers were 
over, the chanting, and the reading of the Law and the 
Prophets, Shammai, who had diseharged the last office, 
sat down, and the congregation waited for him who 
should speak to them. When there had been silence 
for some time, and no one had risen, Zadok stood up and 
said — 

“ This day, men of Israel, is the Scripture brought 
to pass, which saith, Behold I set before you blessing 
and cursing, a blessing on such as keep the command- 
ments I have delivered unto them, and a curse on such 
as break them. But you will surely say, Which Scrip- 
ture is fulfilled ? Verily both. The blessing is upon 
the keepers of the law, and a curse upon the breakers 
of it. Truly is there a curse upon the despisers of the 
Law. The Law is God, and the despiser thereof de- 
spiseth God, and blasphemeth. Let him be cursed. Let 
him die the death of the unrighteous, and let his carcase, 
as that of Jezebel, be given to the dogs that they may 


JULIAN. 


233 


devour it. Let his soul perish from among the people 
of God. The law— it is the Law that exalteth Israel 
upon the high Mountain, and maketh her a spectacle of 
honor to the whole earth. We are the people; yea 
verily, we are the people of God, and there is none 
other. The nations of the earth are accursed. There 
is reserved for them nothing other than the blackness 
of darkness forever. Hell shall devour them, nor shall 
her gates ever deliver them up. The law of the Lord 
that came by Moses is perfect, despise it not therefore, 
ye blasphemers ! Yea, and moreover, it is everlasting ; 
it is built upon a rock whose foundations are hidden in 
the fulness of God. He is its sure support; and in 
these times, verily in our own day, will he exalt it to 
more abundant honor. The anointed of the Lord shall 
appear, Shiloh shall come ! the Son of David shall 
arise, and Jerusalem, the holy city, and all Israel, from 
Dan to Beersheba, shall go forth and meet him at his 
coming, and crown him King ! Redeemer of his people ! 
their Saviour out of the hands of their enemies, the Re- 
pairer of breaches, whose kingdom shall be from ever- 
lasting to everlasting! Make yourselves ready, men 
of Israel, to greet your King. Let the great and the 
mighty rise up to meet him, for their greatness shall be 
increased an hundred fold. Let the rich man pour out 
of his riches, for they shall be multiplied as the sand of 
the sea shore. Let the warrior make bright his armor, 
and gird on his sword, for the enemies of the Lord, as 
of old, must be slain, ere the true children of the king- 
dom can enter into their inheritance. Let the lovers ot 
ease, and sloth, let those who tremble at their own 
shadow, let the young maiden and the little children, 
20 * 


284 JULIAN. 

the poor and humble flee into safe places and the hidden 
dens of the mountains, — it will be then no time for 
them — while the great and the mighty and the strong 
take possession, and scatter the enemy and build up the 
walls of the new kingdom of our God. It shall be an 
eye for an eye — yea and a tooth for a tooth, and more 
than that, ten thousand fold of evil for evil, upon the 
foes of Judah. For a little finger they have laid upon 
us, there shall be laid an arm upon them as thick as a 
man’s loins. And what will ye say, if it be told unto 
you, that now, even now, he who shall come and restore 
all things is standing,. in the midst of you and ye know 
him not? All things are not revealed to all. But by 
dreams, and visions, and the inspirations of the Most 
High, are there those, wise men and as it were prophets, 
unto whom the truth hath been delivered. In due sea- 
son all eyes shall behold it and all hearts confess it. 
When the day, and the hour, and the moment hath ar- 
rived, which Daniel the Prophet hath foretold, then 
shall the light arise, then the Kingdom of Heaven hath 
come nigh unto you, and its everlasting reign com- 
menced. But that moment, who shall declare it? Ye 
men of Israel, be not deceived. Run not hither and 
thither after those, who, like some among us, would 
lead you astray pursuing false hopes. The Lord will 
bring them to confusion. When the great Messiah 
cometh, all eyes will behold his glory. lie who runs 
may read the signs which shall announce him the Son of 
God, the King of Israel.” 

These are some of the things that Zadok said. When 
he had ceased, the faces of the congregation were turned 
to where the Tanner of Enon sat on one of the chief 


JULIAN. 


235 


scats of the Synagogue, as if desiring that he would say 
somewhat But inasmuch as the Ruler did not invite 
him to teach, he held his peace. Shammai, whose office 
it was to ask those who were present to speak to the 
people, being desirous that if it were possible, there 
should be no disturbance, made a pretence, as if he saw 
not the wishes of the hearers in their eyes ; and turning 
toward Onias, asked him, If he had anything to declare 
in the audience of the people, to say on. But thy 
brother refused, knowing well what the present temper 
of the multitude was, and that it was a vain thing to 
hope to withstand it. When, therefore, the people saw 
that Shammai understood them not, or made as though 
he did not, then they, many of them, with one accord 
cried out, saying, 

“We would hear Simon, the Tanner of Enon. lie 
hath somewhat to say, it concerneth Israel to hear.” 

Upon that, Shammai, not unwiHyig.iu his own heart, 
for he careth too little for any one opinion to hinder the 
uttering of any other, turned toward Simon the Tanner, 
and giving him the book of the Prophets, bid him read, 
and then say on. 

Upon that, Zadok strove with zeal to lay silence on 
the Tanner, Eleazel* and others aiding him, and saying 
many things of John, which, whether they were true or 
not, only inflamed so much the more the people to hear 
one of his followers, so that they filled the house with 
their cries that Simon should be permitted to speak ; 
which, when the Rulers saw that it could not be pre- 
vented, they made no more resistance, but submitted to 
what was inevitable. So when Simon saw that no more 


23G 


JULIAN. 


opposition was made, and when silence had once more 
been oh tailed, he stood up and said : 

“ Men and brethren of the house of Jacob, despise 
not one who is but the servant of servants, who would 
declare to you the things that concern the salvation of 
Israel. Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty 
spirit before a fall. Railing Rabshakahs have not pre- 
vailed, nor cursing Shimeis, to stop the mouth of him 
who bringeth good news, good news of the coming of 
the kingdom of God. Your ears arc open to hear, and 
your hearts to confess the power of the Most High. 
Let the wicked, as now, gnash their teeth, but they shall 
come to nought. 

“ The Lord God of Israel in the days of our fathers, 
when they had gone down into Egypt, having pity upon 
his own children, when he had punished them, delivered 
them by the hand of his servant Moses. And when in 
process of time having transgressed again, as being a 
stiff-necked and rebellious race they have ever done, 
Judah was carried away captive into Babylon. But 
when ye had suffered the just punishment for your 
iniquities, the Lord again had compassion, and your 
prosperity was restored, and Jerusalem and Judah 
were clad in their beautifhl garments. In- these latter 
days God hath promised to redeem us by a prophet, 
like unto Moses. For our transgression and idolatries, 
for our revol tings and our blasphemies, have we these 
many years suffered his just rebuke. But the Sceptre 
hath at length departed from Judah, and the Lawgiver 
from between her feet, and the gentile hath possessed 
the land in all her borders. And now, therefore, the 
times being fulfilled, the eyes of all the world look for 


JULIAN. 


237 


the appearing of him who shall save us. The time of 
our affliction being ended, as the prophets have fore- 
shown, we now wait for the Redeemer. But, will he 
come before our chastisements have cleansed us ? and 
our stripes have purged us? and our captivity and our 
bonds have humbled us? Ye men of Israel, it is your 
sins that make a separation between you and your 
God ! Ye must prepare the way before him by repent- 
ance. Repent ye of your iniquities! if ye would be- 
hold the kingdom of God. Forsake the evil of your 
ways, your prayers that are an empty sound, your 
fastings that are a mockery, your worshippings and sac- 
rifices that are but a vain show ! Think no longer to 
deceive man and God by the false appearance. The 
Lord seeth the heart. The Lord despiseth the hypo- 
crite. The Lord looketh through you, as the eye 
through the clear water. Wash you, make you clean, 
put away the evil of your doings altogether, and make 
a straight path, swept, and cleansed, and thoroughly 
purged, and the messenger of the covenant shall sud- 
denly come, bringing salvation and healing on his 
wings. This is the message of John. lie is the voice 
of one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of 
the Lord, make straight in the Desert a high way for 
our God ! He is but as one that runneth before the 
King. lie is as the star of the morning whose coming 
proclaimeth the rising of the greater light, that enlight- 
eneth the whole world. He is not that greater light. 
Ye, nevertheless, muse in your hearts, whether he be 
the Christ or not. Wise men, the Scribes and Phari- 
sees, Priests and Levites of Jerusalem have come ask- 
ing, Art thou the Christ? — tell us plainly. Ho hath 


238 


JPLIAS; 

denied not, but confessed, saying I am not the Christ, 
lie saith only that he is one who cometh preaching, and 
saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand, even at the 
door ; and exhorting men to repentance, that they may- 
be found worthy to enter therein. Ilis baptism is unto 
repentance. He who cometh to him, and is baptized 
with water and confesses his sins, belongeth to him, and 
is as a stone fitted and polished to be built into the 
temple and palace of our King. Come then, ye men of 
Judea, ye who look for the consolation of Israel in the 
fall of the modern Babylon, ye who would make ready 
for the Son of God, ye who are of the true children of 
Abraham, come to the Baptism of John, and be washed 
of your iniquities. Come while the invitation is held 
out, and the door is open, and the lamps are burning, 
for if ye refuse, there are those, not of the house of 
Abraham, whom God shall call, and who shall come in 
and sit down at the feast which shall be prepared, and 
dwell in the cities that shall be built of every precious 
stone, shining as the sun at noon-day. Come and make 
ready for the Prince. He standeth in the midst of you, 
and ye know him not; but he will suddenly reveal him- 
self, and his glory shall be apparent to every eye ; and 
then will you, who harden your hearts and shut your 
ears, be covered with confusion, and your shame shall 
be published from one end of Heaven to the other.” 

When Simon had ended these words, and had sat 
down, all eyes were fastened upon him, as upon one who 
had spoken what at least he truly believed, and who de- 
sired the welfare of those whom he had reproved. The 
assembly would willingly have heard him farther. But 
he seemed not inclined to multiply words. 


JULIAN. 


239 


There being silence for a brief space, as Simon ceased, 
Zadok seemed like one who would fain deliver himself 
of other matter, that appeared to be restrained with 
difficulty ; nor would he have been withheld from giving 
vent to it, as I think, but that he feared lest the people, 
who so evidently were impressed by the words of the 
Tanner, would listen to what he might say with either 
impatience, or open signs of disapprobation. Those, 
however, who apprehended lest he might rise and utter 
himself with new violence, were relieved when they 
beheld Shammai stand up, who if sometimes through 
his Jewish nature he is violent, is for the most part calm 
and forbearing. 

“Ye Jews!” said he; “Servants of God, lovers of 
the Law, and children of Abraham, be not too much 
carried away by hopes which may end in disappoint- 
ment. To judge of the truth of the claims of one who 
shall declare himself a prophet, or the Christ himself, 
ye must hold your minds clear from the false leadings 
of passion, and of any fixed opinion. Else will ye judge, 
not after the truth of things, but only after some image, 
or idol, in your own thoughts. When we feed our de- 
sires high, by much meditation upon them, then are the 
eyes of our mind already blinded, and though we should 
open them we should see nothing with clearness, nor as 
it is in itself. By looking outwards, we should only take 
another way of looking inwards. Wherefore dwell not 
too much on what is to be, or what may happen, or 
upon the purposes of God not yet revealed. For, so 
doing, ye will only raise up phantoms perhaps of error, 
from which ye will find it hard to escape. But rather 
wait, doing with zeal the duties which are uppermost* 


240 


JULIAS’. 


until that which is to ccnie, is come, and taketh the 
shape which God shall give ; then will your eyes aid 
minds be purged, and without mote or film, error or 
idol, to judge a just judgment. We know, for so the 
Prophets have declared it, that Messiah shall in these 
days appear, and all Israel, as one man, awaiteth his 
rising. But we know not how he shall appear, in what 
form, nor with what circumstances of greatness and 
glory. Nor do we know in what part of our wide land 
he shall first display his power. Let us allay our heats, 
and believe that the God who gave us oiir Lawgiver, 
and brought us out of Egypt, and hath sustained us 
hitherto, will now so manifest himself, that, as soon as 
he appeareth, every heart and every tongue shall confess 
him and shout Hosannah ! Simon hath spoken well ; 
and concerning John hath said things that in themselves 
are credible, and in agreement with the Scriptures ; and 
are not dishonorable to John, not though he were a 
Prophet indeed. But we will stay our judgment, men 
of Beth- Harem, until we shall behold him with our own 
eyes. We will not rest in the judgment of another. 
The truth we now possess serves us well ; we will not 
throw it from us without good reasons. Again, I say, 
let us each honor the Law, observe the Sabbaths, keep 
the feasts, offer our sacrifices, do the work which falls to 
us every day, as those who are both men and Hebrews, 
and wait for what God shall bring to pass.” 

Shammai, when he had finished, and the poor had been 
remembered, dismissed the assembly, who departed with 
more quietness than they would have done but for the 
pairing words of the Ruler. The quietness, however, 
lasted not long, as it cannot among this fierce and con- 


JULIAN. 


241 


tentious people, broken into so many factions, each aim- 
ing at the injury or destruction of the other. For no 
sooner had the multitude within the synagogue joined 
itself to the multitude Avithout, than conversation and 
dispute arose on all sides concerning what had been said 
by Zadok, Simon, and Shammai. Some blamed one, and 
some another ; some applauded one, and some another. 
Among others, I saw the old man, whom I had overheard 
on the way to the synagogue, apparently Avith much pas- 
sion, accusing the Ruler as he descended the steps of the 
building. 

“ Is it,” said he, “ from the Ruler of our Synagogue, 
that Ave are to hear fools and madmen, idle Avanderers, 
and falsehearted deceivers held up to honor I Who but 
Simon, and Avretches like him, belieA'e in John 1” 

“ Good Sir,” replied Shammai, “ I have held up no 
deceiver, or blasphemer to honor before the people. 
Had I held up John to honor, Avhich I did not, it is not 
yet shown that he is mad, or false, or impious.” 

“ Yet,” said the other, “ every one of any considera- 
tion knows it.” 

“The people do not knoAV it,” replied the Ruler. 
“ They are on John’s side.” 

“ W r ho,” said the rich man, “ are the people 1 and Avhat 
do they knoAV, and hoAV should they judge 1 Have our 
rulers, the priests, the council, our rich or learned men 
believed in him 1 That is the only question Avorth 
asking. They of Jerusalem condemn him.” 

“ To be condemned by them of Jerusalem, is often to 
be commended of the truth ;” answered Shammai. 

“ Thou art a disciple of John and the Devil, and so 
shall I report thee,” cried the other in a rage. Shammai 
Vol. I.— 21 Q 


JULIAN. 


242 

laugued, while the other turned away trembling with 
anger, more even than with years. The people, who 
had heard what the Ruler had said, applauded him, and 
said “Shammai is the friend of truth ; ho is afraid 
neither of the rich, nor the powerful.” 

Zadok approaching, some one cried out, “ Who is Za- 
dok’s Christ, standing in the midst of us ? Is Zadok 
also a believer in John V 1 

Another exclaimed, “It is a greater than John the 
Baptist, Zadok believes in.” 

“ Or his disciple, Simon the Tanner,” shouted a third 
with a deriding tone. 

“ Blessed the people,” cried yet another voice fVom 
the crowd, “ to whom the Lord shall send a king, dressed 
in skins himself has cured, and his sceptre an ox’s goad.” 

“ Nevertheless,” said another, “ an ox’s goad in the 
hands of him with whom is the spirit of the Lord, were 
more than all the power of all the Ilerods. Remember 
Samson’s jaw bone of an ass.” 

Let him who accuseth Ilerod look to it,” cried an 
angry voice, “ lest he fall into the jaws not of an ass, 
but a lion.” 

“ That was the voice of Zadok,” said one aloud. 

“ It was not the voice of Zadok,” cried the Rabbi, as 
he stalked gloomily away, and left the crowd behind. 
At this moment those with whom we had been standing 
about the steps of the synagogue and between the build- 
ing and the walls of the outer court, were drawn to the 
street, by the loud tones of some one declaiming to the 
people, where, raised above the crowds upon a stone at 
the corner of the market, he stood reporting news which 
he had heard of a prophet having risen up ajnong the 


JULIAK. 


243 

hills of Idumea, and to whom all in that region were 
giving ear. The throng thickened around him, eagerly 
listening to what he had to say, and making inquiries 
concerning the time and manner of his appearing. They 
were interrupted by the voice of another from the crowd, 
who exclaimed, 

“ Trust not these lying rumors, people of Beth-IIa- 
rem ; give no heed to them. I am but just arrived from 
the hills of Idumea on the way to Tiberias, where the 
people knew nothing of this prophet. Listen to the in- 
structions of your ruler Shammai, and run not after 
every shadow.” 

While this person spoke, the other, who had delivered 
the news with so much boldness, mingled with the crowd 
and disappeared, pursued by the cries of the people. 

I now turned away, and leaving the city behind, bent 
my steps towards the Jordan. The soft breath of the 
fresh air burdened with spicy odors, together with the 
calm aspect of nature, was like a medicine, healing the 
distempered body, and restoring the mind also, after the 
feverish heats of the assembly I had left. I sought at 
once the banks of the river, that I might move quietly 
along in the solitude of its deep shadows, rather than 
mingle with those who, on the highway, would be pass- 
ing in the same direction with myself. The atmosphere 
was temperate, and so still, it hardly so much as made 
the leaves to tremble on the lightest boughs, or the ten- 
derest flowers to bend their heads. Birds and insects 
enjoying the sacredness of the day which gave them se- 
curity against their common enemy, saluted the ear with 
their sweetest uotes. The serpent, who glided across 


JULIAN. 


244 

my path, startling me by his fearful shape and glistening 
hues, seemed to dread me less than on other days, and 
went slowly by. Reaching the stream, I seated myself 
upon a rock lying within the fields of Onias not far from 
the grotto of which I have already told you, and leaning 
against the trunk of an aged willow, gave myself to the 
thoughts which the scenes before me, and those which I 
had just witnessed, in Beth-Harem, equally suggested. 
How peaceful is nature! I thought — how calmly her 
various course's move on. There is here no confusion, 
jarring, and discord. The sun, the moon, and the stars 
all wheel around us, and the ear cannot hear the sound 
of their going, neither do they ever cross each other’s 
path. All is peace, order, and silence. The trees and 
herbs all grow to their full stature, yet we see not, we 
hear not, as they go up from strength to strength. But 
with man all is rage, disorder and strife. Nothing is 
quiet ; no motion is without noise, interference, or con- 
flict. In the mind of each individual there is warfare, 
peace never ; and for nations, it seems their chosen work 
to injure or destroy. Within their own borders they 
chafe even among themselves ; being uneasy in every 
present state, and while they look about for beneficial 
changes — at least for changes — know' not what to choose, 
nor where the good they seek after is to be found, and 
often in the pursuit of a fancied advantage plunge into 
deeper ill. 

Why, and to what good end is this restlessness of our 
people ? this discontent with the present, these expecta- 
tions, this longing for a greater future, a wider kingdom ? 
Is it of good? Is it of God? They are tossed, and 
sway to and fro, beating against each other, foaming with, 


JULIAN. 


‘215 


as it seems', useless passion, even like the waves of the 
sea, driven by the winds — like this river, now indeed 
calm and sending forth the gentle music of its murmur 
as it rolls over its bed, or winds among these rocks and 
aged roots on its margin ; but anon rushing onward with 
full and overflowing banks, uprooting the giants of the 
forest, and carrying destruction to the fields of the hus- 
bandman. But what then, is not all alike 1 Is nature 
always calm and peaceful ? Is she not, even like man, 
subject to passionate outbreaks, to violent and sudden 
change, to uproar and wide-spread desolation 1 The sun 
and the stars are indeed quiet and still in their courses, 
and shed down wholesome influences; but, then the 
comet comes and glares upon the world, bringing with 
it pestilence, mildew, floods and war. The solid earth 
quakes, and whole cities are engulphed. The winds, 
which now cannot be heard, to-morrow rise in tempests, 
and forests are torn in fragments, ships dashed in pieces, 
and the proudest works of man levelled with the ground. 
Animals prey upon one another; and even the tender 
dove pursues her diseased offspring with cruelty. Is 
man worse than nature — nature better than man ? Are 
they different 1 Should they be % Doubtless the same 
being hath made the whole. We are all alike. There 
is evil everywhere — evil in nature and evil in man. 
Whence is this and why ? Alas ! who can tell 1 

But whither have I run ? 

I rose from my rock on the river’s side, and turned 
toward the house. I must needs pass the grotto. As I 
drew nigh, I perceived some one within. It was Judith, 
who had there passed in seclusion the time which I had 
spent by the river. She bounded towards me as I passed 


JCIIaS. 


21G 

the entrance, and joining me we went through the vine- 
yards, prolonging our walk, and as we went plucked 
here and there a half-dried bunch of grapes, which had 
been left hanging on its vine. 

“ You went not,” I said, “ to the synagogue within the 
walls.” 

“ No,” she replied, “ yet I joined our people in their 
worship. I accompanied those of our household, who 
frequent the synagogue hard by the Ox Ford. I knew 
that within the walls there would be confusion, at least 
that the peace of the hour would be destroyed ; and I 
am unwilling to lose that peace, or to witness aught in 
the house of God that becomes not his service. IIow 
went it 1 Was Simon there ?” 

I then related what had occurred. 

Judith seemed much struck by what had fallen from 
Simon, and finding that the disturbance had been so 
little, was sorry she had not been there. Concerning 
John, she was desirous to learn all that had been said, 
“ This man,” said she, “ seems in truth like one of the 
old Prophets. He not merely feeds the hopes of the 
people, but rebukes their hypocrisies and iniquities, and 
ere their hope can be fulfilled of the coming Kingdom, 
requires the heart to be made pure by repentance. In 
this, one beholds signs of truth. Impostors are not of 
this sort. Thinking more of some success of their own, 
than of the good of the people, they do but flatter them. 
Those in power especially do they seek to please. But 
this John — not only, if we hear aright, hath he published 
the faults and errors of the chief men of the nation, but 
even of Herod. Would that I might hear and see him ! 
Would that I had heard his follower Simon 1” 


JtTLlAtf. 


247 


At the hour of supper, the table of Onias was again 
surrounded by many of the chief citizens of Beth-Harem, 
with the Rulers, Shammai, Zadok, and Eleazer, and 
others whom the open hospitality of thy brother draws 
around him. 

They did not fail to attack Shammai as one who re- 
garded with too much forbearance such as were propo- 
sing novelties, and impairing the common reverence 
both for the literal requirements of the Law, and the 
traditions of the Elders. “ In truth,” said Zadok, “ our 
Ruler is little better than a Sadducee, and what can be 
worse than a Sadducee ? A pious Jew can think of 
nothing so bad.” 

“ Were it true, that I am indeed a Sadducee,” replied 
Shammai, laughing, “ I should find myself among no 
worse companions for forsaking my present friends, — 
even the rulers of the synagogue. I then might be able 
to boast of the alliance of Caiaphas and Annas, among 
many others equally honorable ; and since thou knowcst, 
Zadok, I am of a boastful nature, and yet have never 
made such boast, thou couldst not ask a better proof 
that I am sounder in my faith than thy words imply.” 

“ In appearance,” replied Zadok, “ thou art on the 
right side, but who can doubt thy little esteem for it, 
who hears thee defend, as to-day, perverters and deniers 
of the truth, railcrs, accusers, rebels, and blasphemers, 
like this wild preacher of the desert?” 

“All in Beth-IIarem who know me,” rejoined Sham- 
mai, “ know that 1 place not the same value in outward 
observances that many do, that 1 prefer the law to the 
traditions of the elders, and the reality of virtue to its 
semblance, and rate much higher goodness in the life, 


248 


JFLIAN. 


with fewer prayers at the corners of the streets, than a 
life less strict or secretly vile, with a great show of wor- 
ship. 1 am not a Saddueec, inasmuch as I doubt not the 
resurrection of the just and the unjust, and hold to the 
existence of a spirit in man, and of spirits in the air and 
the Heavens ; and yet again I am, because 1 think of our 
actions, that we may make them as we please, being- 
free and not bound by fate in the use we make both of 
the body and mind. As for those who go about to 
teach the people either by the wayside, at the markets, 
or in the synagogue, I would not stop their mouths. 
Faith is many-sided, Zadok, and still faith, which side 
soever we choose. We trouble ourselves over-much as 
to what a man thinks. What have we to do with that 
which passeth within a man, so long as what he does, 
and what we see, is according to the rules of religion 
and the customs of men? Why should we go prying 
into the secrets of the spirit, and make it so much as the 
concern of a moment, as to their agreement with this 
great Rabbi, or another- with Hillel, or Simon the just, 
or Saddoc, or Judas ? For myself, I choose out of many 
things, what I judge best, and pray that others may do 
the same ; so shall peace be attained, and virtue be no 
less.” 

“Hear him! Hear him!” cried Zadok; “not less 
than J ohn himself ought we to esteem him a traitor to 
the truth and a misleader of the people! It is web 
Shammai, that the people of Beth-IIarem know more of 
thee than thy no-faith in Moses, or it would go hard 
with thee.” 

“The people of Beth-IIarem,” rejoined the Ruler, 
“ see wider and farther than many of their countrymen, 


JITI.JAN. 


2 tO 


and it may be that some of their teachers are to be 
thanked for that. They have come to consider that ho 
is the best disciple of Moses and the Prophets, who ob- 
serves their precepts in their spirit, and while they see 
their spirit honored, allow some liberty in other things. 
If they are satisfied that the Ruler Shammai is just and 
faithful in his office, they will not rebuke him because 
he mingles together the good things to be found scat- 
tered among many teachers, and many sects. I doubt 
not, Zadok, much that would be valuable might be 
learned, even from this Satan, John, as I have already 
learned somewhat of value from his disciple. The fair 
Judith will agree with me.” 

“ The daughter of Onias,” said Zadok, “ is a daughter 
of a Pharisee of the straitest sect.” 

“I fear,” said Judith, “I shall give little pleasure to 
either side, to Shammai or Zadok, when I say, that I 
rest not wholly satisfied with the teachings of either the 
Pharisee or the Sadducee. But in this can 1 go with the 
good Shammai, that I would willingly hear what any 
holy man, who would instruct us, may have to say, 
whether a prophet of God, or but a common man. 
Surely the fruits of religion are not so rich, or abundant, 
but that we might greet with joy any new proposed doc- 
trine, that should promise to act with better effect on 
the heart and life, and raise the general condition of 
man.” 

“ Verily, Onias,” cried Zadok, “ it seemeth to me as if 
I were sitting in the company of the uncircumcised. 
My ears are pierced as with a sharp sword. It be- 
comes thee surely to take away the child from the false 
teaching of a Sadducee.” 


250 


JULIAN. 


Shammai laughed heartily. 

Said Onias, “No, Zadok, Judith is of age; she hath 
her mind in her own keeping now, and must open or 
shut it, to darkness or light, as shall seem best to her. 
But even as her father is a Pharisee, and the son of a 
Pharisee, so do I deem her in spite of what thou hast 
now heard, to be a true daughter of Abraham. But 
when it shall be seen that Shammai leadeth her astray, 
then shall I call for thee to use thy power to convert her 
from the evil of her way.” 

“ Ah, happy -would that day be for thy daughter, and 
for Israel,” cried Zadok. “ Shammai may have many 
virtues, but he hath not all.” 

“But Zadok has,” said the Ruler. “Daughter, how 
shalt thou possibly learn humility, the chief of virtues* 
of this man 1” 

“ If that virtue is chief on thy catalogue, it stands not 
so high on mine,” said Zadok, “ nor on any other as I 
think.” 

“Well,” said Shammai, smiling, as Zadok took him 
so literally, “we will not dispute about that, I give thee 
joy, Judith, of thy teacher.” 

So it is with these Rulers, they are ever at odds, but 
their difference leads not to strife or anger, notwith- 
standing Zadok seems like one, who, if his passions were 
once roused, would rage with a fury that would over- 
leap all bounds. Much as he in his heart dislikes what 
he deems the looseness of Shammai, and the light es- 
teem in which ho holds the minute observances which 
he himself, so highly values, as frequent washings, many 
fastings and prayers, together with a sacred reverence 
of all traditions, he yet cannot but revere in him a 


J ULIAtf. 


&51 


general innocence of life, and a goodness of heart, far 
exceeding his own, and most of those who would accuse 
him of unbelief. 

When the company was departed, the music had 
ceased, and the lamps which had been hung in the trees, 
for the reason that there was no moon, were extin- 
guished, and those who had been disporting themselves 
were withdrawn, Onias took me with him apart as if to 
communicate somewhat of moment. 

“Julian,” said he, “ the time draws on that there must 
be deeds as well as words, with those who would serve 
Israel. Much has already been achieved by messengers 
who have passed through the land, having communica- 
tion with those who are of our part, and bringing over 
such, as it was found inclined the same way, and could 
be trusted. But more remains, and thy knowledge is 
now needed ; but that it may yield the most and the 
best fruit, I would that thou shouldst see ITerod. He 
alone can lay open before thee the true condition of the 
affair we have taken in hand, and which, borne onward 
with one spirit, shall crown the land and us with honor. 
The Tetrarch has heard of thy doings at Caesarea, and it 
is no displeasure to him, that thou hast fallen into dis- 
credit with Pilate. He desires to see thee, and I have 
said that I would urge thy presence at Machaerus, where 
Herod yet abides.” 

I replied that I would seek him there without delay, 
as I should with pleasure visit so celebrated a spot as 
the fortress and city of Machaerus, and with hardly less, 
the country that was to be traversed in the way thither. 
And indeed, more than all, was I curious to see Here* 
himself. Onias said, that he could not accompany it 


252 - 


JULIAN. 


ns at first he had purposed to do, since it was necessary 
for him to depart in another direction, and he left me to 
take my own time and way, offering the use of both his 
stables and slaves. 

Thus, my mother, am I binding myself to the fate of 
Judea — an issue so little to have been conceived as pos- 
sible but so little while ago. I have passed in so short 
a time, and by the power of such extraordinary events, 
from the life and the feelings of a Roman, to the charac- 
ter, and the habits, and faith of a Jew, that I can hardly 
believe myself to be the same person who dwelt with 
you in Rome, nor can I think that all this has happened 
without the interposing of a hand, of whose guidance we 
all are the subjects, though ignorant when and in what 
manner, and in the arrangement of what events, it is put 
forth. Happy for us that we stand not at the helm of 
our little vessel, but instead, some good angel who seeth 
farther and better, and hath a stronger arm, and who, 
though he guideth us sometimes on shallows, sometimes 
on quicksands, and .sometimes among rocks and eddies, 
doth it that our experience may be more various, and so 
good be shown to make a part of all evil. Who, if he 
might, would dare to choose for himself among the pos- 
sible events of life ? Who so bold as, if it were per- 
mitted him, to be the pilot of his own bark, seeing so 
often as we do in the issue of events, that what at a dis- 
tance we had dreaded, and if we could, would have 
shunned, had proved benignant in our experience of it,, 
and that what we had greatly desired, had it happened, 
could have been no other than disastrous or fatal. And 
how greatly will our judgments of this kind be con- 
firmed and extended when, as in the resurrection of the 


JULIAN. 


* 2r>n 


just, we shall look back upon the whole of life, and be- 
hold each event as it stands bound to every other, both 
with those which preceded it and those that come after. 
In the light of that vast survey, the names which we 
now give to many events will be changed, or quite re- 
versed, — evil will be seen to be good, and good, evil. 

Great delight and large profitings have come to me, 
when thinking thus, from the pages of David, Solomon, 
and the Prophets. There seems to be no mood of the 
mind, which finds not in them its proper nourishment or 
medicine. Rightly was the son of David named the 
Wise. The heart with all its weaknesses and errors, 
and life with all its lights and shadows, and in all its 
changes, are by him painted with so much truth, that the 
reader sees not whence such stores of knowledge could 
have come, save from the inspiration of God. Else, me- 
thinks, he must have lived life over many times, and in 
his own fortunes experienced the various lots of different 
persons, which we cannot believe, unless we agree with 
the philosophers of India, or receive the fancies of Pytha- 
goras. In David, moreover, who can fail to find the 
thoughts and the words in which, whether he be joyous 
and grateful, or afflicted and penitent, cheerful or de- 
sponding, he can best offer up his sacrifice to God. 
No power, no words, of his own could avail so well. 
David, the sinner, and David, the saint, as he was now a 
sufferer, and now an enjoyer, has alike set forth his sor- 
rows and his joys before God, in prayer and praise ; and 
there, as in a mirror, doth every one who, like him, has 
sinned and suffered, or obeyed and rejoiced, behold his 
own soul truly reflected. In none, either of the philoso- 
phers of Greece, or the moralists of Rome, do I find so 
Vol. I.— 22 


JULIAN. 


254 

much of human life justly depicted, of the human heart 
so clearly revealed. Nor, which is much more, do they 
ever speak in that tone of sincerity, which marks the 
prophets of Judea; and it is this virtue in a writer 
of morals above all others, that deserves our affection 
and reverence. The Jew writes of life and man, as 
if it were a matter not of art, but of life and death ; 
the Greek and the Roman, as if to treat a subject as 
becomes a rhetorician. The Jew writes to help and 
save him who may read ; the Roman or the Greek, to 
display his genius in a perfect treatise. The Jew there- 
fore we love and obey as a divinity ; the Roman or the 
Greek we honor as an artist who has completed a beau- 
tiful work. For the last we have admiration; for the 
first sighings, and tears, and an altered life. 

Farewell, my mother, and the blessings of all the Pro 
phots be upon thee. 


J v man. 


2£5 


XII. 

As Onias had desired, that I should without delay set 
forth on my journey to Machairus, 1 should have departed 
on the morning of the first day of the week, but that 
some other cares detained me, and, especially, the neces- 
sity I felt to be upon me to keep my promise to the 
poor Leper, whom I was to visit at his own home. 
Wherefore, instead of immediately making for Machoe- 
rus, I turned first toward Beth-IIarem to seek out the 
dwelling of the beggar. From his account of its place, 
it was easily found near to the inn bearing the sign of 
the High Priest painted upon its front. Just beyond it 
stood a shapeless mass of extensive ruins, whose broken 
roofs and crumbling walls kept out neither the heat of 
summer nor the rains and cold of winter— this was 
pointed out to me as the abode of the wretched outcast. 

The rooms immediately upon the street I found unoc 
cupied, but as I penetrated farther into the gloomy re- 
cesses, and then paused to consider which way I should 
turn, — it was the sixth. hour, —I was arrested by the voice 
of one as if in prayer. I stood still, and heard with dis- 
tinctness the voice of a girl, as it seemed to me, rehears- 
ing, as if from memory, a Psalm of David, where he de- 
plores and confesses his sins, and cries out from the great 
deeps of his distress, for pity and pardon. The voice 
having ceased, the tones of another, which I at once re- 


250 


JULIAN. 


m cin be red as those of the leper, fell upon my ear; 
“ Now, my child, that thou hast repeated these words 
of the good king and prophet, let me hear thy voice in 
prayer also with which request the daughter comply- 
ing, 1 heard the same low and sorrowful voice lifted up 
in prayer to God. Yet, though the voice was as of one 
who was burdened, the themes on which it dwelt, were 
such as to inspire cheerfulness and gratitude, rather than 
sorrow or repining. Many blessings were enumerated 
that had been bestowed upon them who were ready to 
perish, by the good providence of God, and by the hands 
of those who had been moved to take pity on them. 
When the worship was over, I moved from where I 
had stood, and advancing toward the door of the inner 
room, passed it, and stood before them. 

It was a pitiful, yet pleasing spectacle that presented 
itself. The beggar was seated in a corner of the room, 
upon a pile of clean straw or rushes, leaning against the 
wall, with a face upturned as to catch the light that 
streamed in from a single window, or crevice in the 
wall, while at his side, also crouched upon the straw, sat 
her whose voice I had heard, and who had already taken 
in her hands withes, which, with nimble lingers, she was 
weaving into baskets. Some jars and coarse pottery, 
with a few rude seats, were the only objects in the room. 
The daughter looked up at my approach, but without 
surprise, as if accustomed to the intrusion of visitors 
through the open doors and fissures. The voice of the 
old man, as his ear caught my footstep, was first heard, 

“ Who comes here, my child V 9 

“ A stranger, 5 ’ she replied. 

“ Not wholly a stranger,” I answered. “ It was I, who - 


JULIAS. 


yesterday, doubting the truth of your word, promised to 
see where you dwelt.” 

“It is not much,” replied the old man, “to say you 
arc welcome to such a place as this ; but I am glad to 
hear your voice again. It was far better to hear your 
voice yesterday, than the clatter of the brass which the 
Pharisee showered upon me, which but for you I could 
never have found. My child had left me for a space, 
and l alone could not have gathered it up ; besides, that 
others would have snatched it from me. It was the same 
man who a little after caused me to be driven away by 
the servants of the synagogue, with reproaches and blows, 
as a Sabbath breaker. But if I broke the Sabbath by 
begging, he broke it as well by giving.” 

“ He could not resist the line occasion,” I answered, 
“ of making a show of his benevolence.” 

“That was it, I am sure,” answered the daughter, 
“ though I would not say So of any whom we did not 
well know. But that Pharisee is known to be very 
rich, and yet exacting towards all who are dependent 
on him, casting into prison such as owe him but a few 
pence. Surely the heart of such a one is not right.” 

“ And then,” said the father, “ afterwards showing his 
zeal for the Sabbath day by setting the servants of the 
synagogue to drive me away. I knew well that it was 
held unlawful by many to give on the Sabbath ; but I 
thought within myself, there would be out of the great 
crowds 1 heard would be gathered together, some who 
would think, that, to give an alms would be as accep- 
table an offering, as to stand within and pray.” 

“ Surely it must be so,” said the daughter, “ the Sab- 
bath is kept, and God is worshipped by doing good, as 
22* a 


259 


JULIAN. 


well as by saying prayers, and reading the law. Is it 
not so, Sir?” 

“ I think so indeed. The law but requires us to rest 
nn the Sabbath, and not profane it. It is men who add 
the observances of which you complain. But why,” I 
asked, “ do you beg ?” addressing the daughter, “ is not 
your labor sufficient for your honest support ?” 

“Oh no, Sir; it brings us but very little, hardly 
enough to supply our food, besides which we must pay 
for our portion of this crazy tenement. But the people 
of Beth- Ilarem arc kind to us, lepers though we be. 
Yet would they avoid us, doubtless, had they not known 
us in our better days. You need not fear anything, Sir, 
because I tell you my father is a leper. The physicians 
say that he will suffer no more, and that no one now 
will receive it from him.’ 

I said that I feared it not; and asked how it was, 
that while her father had suffered so much she had her- 
self escaped ? 

“ Verily,” cried the father, “ through the good provi- 
dence of God, — by a miracle of his loving kindness. 
But beside her, all are lost, all.” 

I then inquired how so great a calamity had over- 
taken them. 

“I will tell you,” replied the cripple. “My birth 
place is this very Beth-TIarem. But when I became of 
age, and had chosen what employment I would follow, 
my father gave to me and a younger brother so much 
of his fortune as he could part with, and we departed 
for Tyre, that we might traffic there as merchants; for 
we both preferred that way of life to any other. There 
wc prospered for many years. We each took a wife, 


JULIAN. 


259 


and our children grew up around us. But my brother, 
not content with the measure of our good fortune, which 
was already more than that of any merchant in Tyre, 
being given also to excess in his manner of living, re- 
solved to travel into India, and even China, for the suae 
of the great riches which many had found there, and 
which he was sure he should find also. But, alas ! he 
had been gone but a brief space of time, when 1 dis- 
covered that in ways, which I had not suspected, he had 
wasted a great part of our substance by debts he had 
contracted, and soon in addition to these, instead of 
wealth flowing in from the East, I was also obliged to 
use what was left, in payment for losses he had incurred 
there, partly through error, and partly through riotous 
living. Thus was the prosperity of the morning of our 
life already over. But this we might have borne, and 
from it recovered, had not a greater and unlooked-for 
calamity ensued. When for a long time we had no 
tidings of my brother, we were roused at midnight by 
the cry of the servants, that he had returned. It was 
he in truth ; and we received him, as one whom, though 
he had greatly erred, we still loved. We embraced 
him with affection, and tried to surpass each other in 
offices of friendship, in which we were the more ready, 
as he said that by reason of the fatigue of the way he 
had fallen ill. But when the morning came, what was 
our horror, to behold him white with the leprosy ! 
The plague could not be stayed. It was in the state 
which is most dangerous to those who approach it, and 
seized both our households, the old and the young. 
W e were before beggars; now we were lepers also. 
All fled from us. My wife and my children died, their 


2G0 


JULIAN. 

limbs dropping off one after another. This one alone 
being spared, upon whom, through the good providence 
of God, the disease never laid its loathsome touch. 
My brother, the author of all our miseries yet lives ; 
and his wretched family with him, as if to add to his 
unhappiness by the continual reproaches their sufferings 
utter. And truly doth he deserve all he endures. My 
lot is happy, compared with his, in that those whom I 
loved died, and so escaped what the rest endure ; and 
this blessed child, who alone lives, was too pure for the 
foul curse to come near her. My hope, by night and 
by day, is, that I may soon perish, and release her from 
this cruel bondage. It were a sin to pray for death, 
but I may hope it.” 

The girl wept bitterly, as her father said these things. 

It seemed to be indeed as he had said, that there was 
somewhat too pure in her for disease to harm her ; for 
notwithstanding the extremity of their poverty, there 
was none of its loathsomeness about her ; but though 
poor, her garments were clean, as was the straw on 
which she sat, and her countenance was bright with the 
hues of health. 

I asked concerning his brother, and whether he too 
was in Beth-Harem. 

“No,” he answered, “he separated himself from all 
whom he had known, and departed for the desert. lie 
inhabits a solitary dwelling on the burning sands, where 
the Jordan leads toward the salt sea, dependent upon 
the mercies of the passing traveller, the shepherd and 
the huntei , — who, as they pass, will throw them a little 
food, — and upon what fish they can sometimes catch in 
the river. But of this they must be deprived as, one 


JULIA??. 


2G 1 


after .mother, their members become diseased arid per- 
ish” 

I said, that I thought it strange, that having been 
born in Beth-Harem, and being well known, there were 
not more who were prompt to aid him, and diminish 
farther the evils of his lot. 

lie said that he had not long been returned to Beth- 
Ilarem, and but a few of the inhabitants knew he was 
there. “ But,” he added, “ so great is their horror of 
this plague, that they would not approach me ; and it 
must be added also, that they accuse me of the faults 
of my brother, and visit the punishment upon my head, 
as well as his, who alone was guilty.” 

Then bestowing upon them such relief as would 
amply supply their present wants, I departed, assuring 
them I should see them again, when I should have re- 
turned from my journey. 

Hastening back again to the dwelling of Onias, I 
passed the remainder of the day in making such prepar- 
ations as were needful for the road, and for an absence 
of many days. To Ziba 1 could entrust the chief part 
of these cares. I did not fail to relate to Judith all I 
had learned of the Leper and his daughter, and to raise 
such an interest for them in her heart, as to engage her 
active exertions in their behalf. Though professing, 
and really feeling, all the horror which any do of the 
disease of leprosy, and like all of this people believing 
it infectious in all stages of its progress, she yet prom- 
ised that by some means which she would trust her 
ingenuity to devise, she would contribute of her abun- 
dance to. their comfort. 


2G2 


JULIAN. 


When the morning of the second day had come, 1 set 
forth, with Ziba as my companion, for the region of the 
Dead Sea. The cooler weather that announces the ap- 
proach of winter beginning to prevail, our preparations 
were different from those which were to be made when 
we took our departure from Caesarea. But though the 
winter is near at hand, occasionally there happen days 
of little less burning heat than in the summer months ; 
in the night, the cold, with heavy dews, always return- 
ing. The forests still retain their leaves, though their 
verdure is partly gone. Our way lay in a plain course 
in the direction of the river, by following which, without 
turning either to the right or left, we could not fail to 
arrive at our destined haven, inasmuch as the city and 
fortress of Macheerus are visible at the point where the 
Jordan empties into the sea. We might have made our 
path shorter, by striking across the plain where the Jor- 
dan bends, as it doth below where the Ileshbon joins it, 
far to the West ; but for the sake of the greater pleas- 
antness of the road, we kept on the lower banks of the 
river. We wound along, therefore, among many vil- 
lages, and cultivated grounds, without interruption, until, 
in the neighborhood of Jericho the land loses its fertility, 
and stretches out on every side, a wide and barren des- 
ert of rock and sand. 

But after leaving Beth-Harem, we entered upon this 
fertile tract I have spoken of, lying first immediately 
upon the borders of the stream, and then stretching to- 
ward the east, till, after not many leagues, it meets the 
mountains, which, running from north to south, form a 
wall, as it were, between Judea and the farther east. 
Of those mountains, the nearer were the hills of Gilead, 


JULIAN. 


*MY3 

partly bare, rocky, and torn by the descending torrents 
of the early spring ; partly covered with the same for- 
ests and verdure, that clothed the plains at their roots. 
The walls and towers of frequent villages, breaking 
through the dark foliage, with their white lines, gave a 
new beauty to the scene. I cannot but be of the opinion, 
that neither in the neighborhood of Rome or Naples, nor 
on the plains of the Po, is there anything more rare or 
beautiful to be seen, than that which here lay before 
me; which must be taken as high commendation, seeing 
that my prejudices are still (in spite of my present 
choice) in favor of the earlier scenes of my youth. 
Ziba was clear that these plains were no way inferior to 
those of Esdraelon. Crossing the Ileshbon on a bridge 
of Roman structure, from which we could just discern 
the pinnacles of Ileshbon itself, we soon came to Betha- 
bara, a village not large but agreeably situated, not far 
from Jordan, and shaded by surrounding groves of 
palms, poplars, and sycamore. Passing through it, we 
discovered that very soon we must enter upon the sands 
of the desert ; for, from a rising ground, which we were 
obliged to ascend, we beheld the cultivated lands gradu- 
ally yielding to rock and barren fields; all signs of 
verdure being confined to the thickets of willow and 
olive, that, until within a few' miles of the Dead Sea, 
continue to line the banks of the river. Rising high on 
the eastern side of the prospect, we beheld the tops of 
Mount Pisgah, and the Mountains of Nebo, and farther 
in the same direction, and towards the south, the bleak 
and glistening summits of the hills of Arabia. 

It was when the sun had reached his highest point, and 
his rays were falling upon us almost with the povver o t 


2G4 


JULIAN. 


the summer solstice, that we entered upon the wild and 
savage region, blasted by the hand of God himself be- 
cause of the sins of its inhabitants, which extends from 
the neighborhood of Jericho on either side of the river, 
even unto the further extremity of the sea. The plains 
of this desert, which lie elevated far above the Jordan, 
present to the eye only one unvaried scene of desola- 
tion ; being composed of whitish rocks just breaking 
through the parched earth, or of moving sands, or else 
of soil seamed with cracks and fissures, occasioned by 
long droughts, and also by sudden and violent torrents 
from the mountains in the season of the rains, which wear 
their way by a thousand channels to the river. When 
entered upon this dismal region, the river, though but at 
a small distance from ns, was no longer visible, nor even 
the thickets which clothe its banks, nor would one be- 
lieve that they so much as had any existence, so far were 
they sunk below the level of this arid tract. All we 
could see, therefore, was but a wide prospect of shining 
sand, painful for the eye to look upon, bounded, in the 
dim and hazy distance, by lofty precipices of rock. 
But, new to me, it possessed its own charms, as doth 
everything that the hand of God has made — the wild 
and the terrible, as well as the calm and the beau- 
tiful. Nay, the awe of his presence is a more sen- 
sible influence among such scenes as these; since as 
there is no other being whom he permits to dwell there., 
no other to divert our thoughts, we imagine him to make 
it his peculiar abode, and think of him alone. Where 
men dwell together, in thick and prosperous communi- 
ties, and we behold on every side the forms of human 
art, or else nature wholly altered by that art, and thrown 


JULIAN. 


205 


into shapes which his mind has conceived, then we are 
ever prone to rest in the nearest and feeblest cause of 
what we see, to think more of the changes which man 
has wrought in what was brought ready prepared to his 
hand, than of the awful power that effected the first 
creation, and called into being the first substance. The 
scenes of nature, wild and untenanted, even as they came 
from the hand of their Maker, are of most power on the 
mind. Thus too the ocean moves the soul more than 
the land. 

We had approached toward the midway point of this 
desert region, having seen of living things, only here 
and there in the distance the form of an Arab horseman, 
or the long neck of a camel moving among the rocks, 
when we beheld what appeared to be a cluster of 
ruinous dwellings, w T hose walls of white stone shone in 
the hot glances of the sun with a dazzling radiance. 
No tree or shrub was near to break the rays of the sun; 
they stood undefended and, as we supposed, uninhabited 
in their fearful solitude. Ziba, thinking they might with 
reason be the resort of plunderers and robbers, who 
greatly infest the roads lying between Jerusalem, Jeri- 
cho, and the borders of the Dead Sea, counselled that 
we should avoid them, by taking a course nearer the 
Jordan. But curiosity prevailing over apprehension, we 
kept on our way, and with the less concern, that they 
stood on what must be the common road which travel 
lers would take, on their journeys to Machserus, or He- 
rodium. When we had drawn so near as to see the 
buildings mote distinctly, with their white walls, and 
dark shadows cast on the burning sand, and had paused 
a moment, there suddenly rushed from out the ruins lean 


266 


JULIAS’. 


and half-starved dogs, who filled the air with their pro- 
longed and doleful howling. Fit guardians they seemed 
of the foul spirits that could alone inhabit dwellings 
more fearful and dismal than the tombs themselves. 
The dogs continuing their savage yells, yet, as they 
struck us, rather melancholy and mournful in their 
sound than fierce, we kept on our way, and drew still 
nearer, though it was with difficulty we urged on our 
horses, who seemed to dread an approach, even more 
than ourselves. The walls showed here and there small 
loop-holes, or windows, but the eye could see nothing 
but the deep blackness of space within. As I looked 
steadily at one of these openings, a human face suddenly 
appeared, and was as quickly withdrawn ; but, seen only 
for a moment, it made known by its scaly, death-like 
whiteness, who and what the inhabitants were. Here, I 
could not doubt, dwelt the leprous household of the 
brother of the Beth-Harem beggar. I called upon Ziba, 
who was hastening forward, to stop. At the same mo- 
ment passing a projecting wall, I there beheld the mem- 
bers of this miserable family lying basking in the rays of 
the sun, rather like swine than creatures in the human 
form. The dogs ceased their baying, and came round 
fawning as if for food. Soon as the lepers — lying as it 
-were half asleep — were conscious of our presence they 
cried out with one accord, in hoarse and unnatural tones, 

“Food — food — give us food,” — at the same time 
stretching out their hands, from which some or all the 
fingers had fallen. 

“ Food — give us food, else may the curse of leprosy 
cleave to you — may the air that blows from us taint you 
with the plague a thousand leagues over the desert.” 


JULIAN. 


267 


w Cease to curse,” said I, “ and we will throw you 
food. But do you not fear to blaspheme, seeing what 
the punishment of your sins is V ’ 

This they received with hoarse laughter. 

“ What should we fear ? What is worse than this ? 
Out upon you, hypocrite ! Throw us food, or begone.” 

“ I w'ould ask you,” I began — 

“ Insult us not ; ask nothing ; — throw us food, I say, 
and begone.” 

He who had said these things — his face, at first, white 
with its leprous crusts, but now bloated, and red with 
impotent rage — while he spoke, had half raised himself 
from the sand. He now seized a broken fragment of 
the wall to hurl at us ; the others at the same time, 
crying out to the dogs to attack us. Struck with horror 
at such a spectacle, we threw down the food we could 
spare, and fled upon our way — their curses, and the 
baying of the famished dogs dying gradually away as 
we rode. 

It was a long while ere I could so banish from my 
mind the scene I had witnessed, as to take note of the 
w r ay. We rode along in silence. I could think only 
of the miserable fate that had overtaken a household 
reared once in prosperity and luxury. How low they 
must have fallen, I thought, in their sense of God and 
right, while yet the day of their prosperity shone 
bright, for adversity to plunge them so deep in beastli- 
ness and impiety. Their leprosy seemed but the least 
portion of the evil that had overtaken them. Their 
bodies were in health and beauty, compared with their 
souls. 

u Doubtless they had forsaken God long before ho 


268 


JULIATT. 


suffered the punishment of their errors finally to fall 
upon them.” So judged Ziba. 

“ Those wretches,” continued he, “ must have sinned 
with industry even from their birth, to bring down so 
fearful a judgment.” 

I told him what I had heard from the leper in Beth* 
Harem, and who I supposed them to be. 

At this Ziba recollected himself, and said, that “ doubt- 
less it was as I supposed. He had heard at Tyre of 
what I had related ; and as he had been told, it was rare 
that wickedness and impiety proceed to such excesses 
as in the younger of the two brothers. There were few 
in Tyre whom he had not injured. The wealth of the 
poor, of the widow, and the orphan, he had obtained as 
a trust, and then devoted to his pleasures, and the lux- 
urious indulgence of his household. His children grew 
up in sin. When he returned from India, he was Well 
aware that when he entered his own doors, it was as a 
leper; but his heart was so hardened, that he Said, 
They shall perish also. They did perish, indeed, by 
this living death. And the curse that had fallen from 
the hand of God, clave unto him also, and cleaveth yet 
and will cleave forever; for his soul is leprous more 
than the body, and that shall be in the resurrection 
even as it is now. Shall it not 

I said that I could not but think so. 

“Yet,” said Ziba, “the Priests will tell us, that the 
children of Abraham shall be saved, and their sins shall 
not hinder— while no others shall, be they never so 
pure.” 

“ But others,” I replied, “ do not so judge. And 
these perhaps may know the truth as well as they.” 


JULIAN. 


269 




“I believe it,” answered Ziba. “The best that I 
have heard of the Prophet on the Jordan — the Baptizer 
— is, that to the boasting Pharisees and Doctors from 
Jerusalem, who think whether they fulfil all righteous- 
ness or not, they shall be saved, he said, * It is of no 
worth, your claim on Abraham as your father, for God 
can raise up at any moment from the very stones of 
the street children to Abraham, who shall come in and 
claim all that belonged to his true descendants.’ ” 

“ If he has said so,” I answered, “ he has said a good 
thing, and doubtless true as the righteousness of God.’? 

So conversing we continued on our way until, as we 
ascended a little knoll of sand, Ziba cried out, saying— 
“ Behold ! the Dead Sea !” , v 

I looked where he pointed, and it was plainly to be 
seen stretching away to the south till lost in the ex- 
treme distance. 

“ And there, on the left, at the head of the lake,” com 
tinned Ziba, “can the eye just discern the high rocks on 
which stand the city and fortress we are in search of.” 

They were indeed just visible. But as we moved on 
at a quicker pace, they rapidly emerged from the dim- 
ness in which they first .appeared, and began to assume 
their proper forms. The same scene continued to sur- 
round us, save that the whole plain of the desert began 
to slope toward the huge basin of the sea, and the sand 
to become more light and soft, and the low rocks to 
disappear. We now, too, had brought into sight the 
great highways from Idumea, winding round the head 
of the lake, and those from the northern parts of the 
Persea, all leading to Machserus, which, since its restora- 
tion by Herod the Great, has been not only a post of 
23 * 


270 


JULIAN. 


defence and repository for munitions of war, but like- 
wise a place of resort for the merchants who trade be- 
tween Arabia, Jerusalem, and Tyre, and the general 
coast of the Mediterranean. Along these main channels 
of communication we could now see horsemen, travel- 
lers on foot, and long lines of loaded camels, either bent 
towards Machzerus or Herodium, or else, going from 
these cities towards the west and north. 

The Dead Sea now opened before me in all its gran- 
deur and boundless extent. While the shore at the 
northern extremity, where the J ordan sends in its there 
dull and muddy stream, is but a vast waste of sand, all 
flat and low, even to the water’s edge, the eastern and 
western shores are on the other hand, bold and sublime, 
with mountains of every wild and jagged form running 
down to the shore itself in lofty and abrupt precipices 
of bare and shattered rock, then retreating into the in- 
terior and rising into loftier summits still. Between 
these ranges of hills lay the mysterious sea, heavy and 
motionless, as if indeed dead. No ripple broke its sur- 
face, no wave murmured along the shore — weltering 
only among the loose rocks piled along its margin. 
The silence as of death rested over it. The waters of 
this inland ocean, heavy with salt, their surface covered 
with an oily film which impedes the action of the winds, 
and being moreover without tides, strike the eye at 
once as different from all others — from those of the 
Great Sea always in motion by reason of its tides, and 
from those of other lakes which, fresh and light, are 
curled by the gentlest breath of air that passes over 
them. Had this sea, instead of water, presented to the 
eye a surface of white polished silver, where every ob 


JULIAN. 


*271 


ject on its sides was reflected with the perfection of 
reality, it would not have differed from what I saw, nor 
filled the mind with more astonishment. When we 
drew near, and, impatient of delay, attempted in the 
most direct manner to reach the shore, we were in- 
stantly defeated by the soft and treacherous sands into 
which our horses sank. This compelled us to wind 
round the bay, which forms the upper extremity, that 
we might gain a rocky shore lying under a low cape, or 
promontory, that divided us from the city and fortress 
of Machserus. 

Having accomplished our object, w'e stood upon the 
rocks against which the water lay, reached down and 
tasted for ourselves its exceeding bitterness, and looked 
into those clear depths which the eye penetrates as they 
w ? ere composed of crystal. It demanded but slight ef- 
fort of the fancy to make me believe, that far down ip 
those dismal solitudes, I beheld the pinnacles and tow 
ers, the temples and the walls of the devoted cities ; 
and that I could still hear, as the peasants affirm they 
ever do, the moaning or the imprecations of the wicked 
spirits there overwhelmed, and whom the justice of God 
still binds in their watery prisons. I lay along upon 
the rocks and gazed, and listened, till I was weary, and 
I was roused by Ziba’s voice, saying, that it was time 
we set out for Machserus, would we reach that place 
before night. 


END OF VOL. I. 


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JULIAN 


XIII. 

Wakened from dreams in which I was losing myself, 
I saw that the reproof of the camel-driver was needed. 
We accordingly returned towards the path we had left, 
and moved on in the direction of the city. 

The whole prospect to the east was now open to uj, 
as we crossed a part of the promontory of which I have 
spoken. Machaerus, the Fortress, stood before us crown- 
ing its inaccessible heights with tower and wall ; the city, 
with which it is connected by fortified passages, stretch- 
ing down the hill as it slopes gently to the north, and 
spreading out on each side, beyond its embattlements, 
into suburbs which spoke of both numbers and wealth. 
The prospect was wild and magnificent. The precipi- 
tous heights with trees and shrubs depending from the 
fissures in which they had fixed their roots, water from 
secret springs gushing forth and falling from rock to 
rock till it was lost in unfathomable gulphs below*, all 
crowned with the stately buildings of the city in every 
form of Greek and Roman art, the Fortress at the 
southern limit towering above the whole, and bidding 
1 * 


6 


JULTAN. 


defiance through its natural defences to the most proved 
resources of war, presented in their union a scene like 
no other which I had beheld before in either Europe or 
Asia. The beauty seemed to me, the greater also, for 
the features of dreary desolation, that were so many and 
so appalling in almost every other direction. 

In the city above, and among the clefts of the rocks 
on which it stands, could the eye, pained as it had been 
by the barrenness of the desert and the shores and surface 
' of the Salt Sea, now rest with an agreeable sense of re- 
lief, upon the dark hues and heavy masses of this eastern 
foliage. Over the walls were to be seen the palm, the 
poplar, the sycamore, and the broad terebinth, shoot- 
ing up and mingling their forms with those of the col- 
umns and pinnacles of Herod’s temples and palaces. 
All, that from such distance could be descried, gave 
signs of a- population not insensible to any of the provis- 
ions by which life is adorned, at least, if not furnished 
with additional means of happiness — and we pressed on 
our way, anxious ere the sun should leave to pass the 
gates, and see more and from a nearer point of view of 
what filled us so with admiration. 

As we went still farther to the north on our way 
towards the gate of the city, we fell in with many trav- 
ellers taking the same road, and passed the scattered 
dwellings of those who, as gardeners and husbandmen, 
supplied the wants of the citizens. A rich soil began to 
show itself, from which the last products of the harvest 
were gathering. When we approached the gates, as our 
view was unobstructed to the east, and in the direction 
of Herodium, we beheld, as far as the eye could reach, 
valleys still smiling in a rich luxuriance of vegetation, 


JULIAN. 


7 


sprinkled -with villages and the insulated dwellings of the 
peasantry. Upon passing within the walls, we found 
the city of less extent than it had seemed when seen 
from the borders of the sea, but at the same time re- 
markable for the elegance and costliness of its structures, 
especially its public ones. For Herod the Great having 
rebuilt Machserus, he obeyed here, as he did wherever 
he undertook any work for the people, and for which 
their taxes were to pay, his passion for magnificence, 
and accordingly filled it with palaces, markets, temples, 
and porticos, as his humor inclined. The city in these 
features of it seems far beyond the demands of the re- 
gion and of the inhabitants. These are of many nations ; 
— Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Arabians, as well as 
Jews and Samaritans, being found here, either as per- 
manent citizens, or as strangers resorting hither for pur- 
poses of traffic. 

We soon found our way to the merchant’s house, to 
•whom Onias had commended me, who gave me a hos- 
pitable welcome to the city of Herod. Upon inquiring 
after the Tetrarch, and in what way access was to be ob- 
tained, *and whether he were at present in Machrerus, I 
learned that he was now dwelling in the palace within 
the Fortress, that he was easy of approach, and more- 
over was with impatience awaiting my arrival, of which 
Onias had given him warning. 

When I had been refreshed by the sleep of a long 
night, and had satisfied my love of what is new and 
strange by examining different parts of the lower city,. I 
turned towards the citadel, within which stands the pal- 
ace of Herod. Although there are in the lower city 
other palaces, costly and sumptuous, which he also oo 


8 


JT7LI AT*. 


cupies when his inclinations prompt, — yet for the most 
part, as I have learned, he confines himself to this within 
the Fortress. This place is reached only at one point, 
and by one passage, which is a bridge, — covered by an 
arch, and more like a subterranean tunnel than a bridge, 
— thrown across a deep gulf, that separates one part of 
this mountain from another. On the smaller part stands 
the Fortress of Machasrus, entered in the way I have 
described. On every other side it is wholly inaccessible ; 
since the precipices which nature has reared are impos- 
sible of ascent, and superadded to them are the lofty 
walls and towers, a hundred cubits and more in height, 
rebuilt by the great Herod, when they had been demol- 
ished by the Romans in their conflict with Aristobulus. 
Only it must be said, that the structures of Herod are 
greatly inferior, in both extent and strength, to those 
that had before been built by our king Alexander. 

When I had passed the huge gateways at either ex- 
tremity of the bridge, both of which were guarded by 
soldiers, I entered the space enclosed by the walls of the 
Citadel, in the centre of which rose before me the palace 
of the Tetrarch, magnificent in its vastness, and beauti- 
ful by reason of the multitude of its polished columns, 
its lofty porticos, and the richness of its various decora- 
tions. Before it, and surrounding it on all sides, were 
groves of every fruit tree and flowering plant, brought 
from all parts of the world. No tree could, I believe, 
be named, in any way remarkable, distinguished either 
for its beauty of form, or the flavor of its fruit, or the 
odor of its blossoms, that might not be found here. 
In all directions also, fountains of water were throwing 
up to a great height their refreshing showers or columns. 


JULIA rf. 


9 


Long ranges of other buildings, designed for the chief 
officers of the king, for all such as chose to resort to his 
court, as well as for the great garrison which is always 
maintained here, were seen in different parts of this large 
enclosure, seeming almost, for extent, like those I had 
left on the other side of the bridge. The scene was made 
to appear full of life also, from the movement of troops 
of soldiers on the walls or the platforms beneath, to the 
sound of their warlike instruments, and from the num- 
bers of those who appeared to be visitors of the king, 
and who were walking among the trees, or reposing by 
the side of the fountains. A busy multitude also of 
slaves were laboring at their different employments, in 
preserving in their order the grounds and the buildings, 
or performing the errands committed to them. 

I was led to that part of the Palace, where were 
situated the private apartments of the Tetrarch, to the 
room in which he receives those with whom he has any 
affairs to transact that are to be conducted with privacy. 
Herod was sitting with writing materials before him as 
I entered. In his appearance he conformed to what I 
had looked for. He was not above the middle stature, 
nor in other respects possessed of any of those remark- 
able qualities by which the eye is either captivated or 
awed at once. His countenance easily relaxed into a 
smile ; yet in the smile there is more of a certain sort 
of derision, or secret contempt, than of anything like 
mirthfulness, or goodwill. His eyes are those of a Jew, 
quick in their motion, and suddenly, and without ap- 
parent cause, averted from you as you meet their 
glance ; his beard and hair of a reddish hue, not long j 
but thick and straight. His garments, of the richest 


10 


J BL1AN. 


stuffs, were such as become a monarch. His voice is 
for the most part soft and cheerful ; yet often, and un- 
consciously as it were, sliding into other tones, harsh and 
imperious, as if they were fhose most natural. He rose 
and saluted me with courtesy, using the Latin tongue, 
which he speaks with readiness and exactness, but rather 
as if he had learned it of masters, than by much use 
among those to whom it is a native speech. He asked 
after the welfare of Onias and his household, expressing 
much regard for him, and great reliance upon his judg- 
ment and valor. He then spake of my journey and of 
my arrival, and asked, if I had before visited these 
regions. 

I answered, that I had never until within a short 
period seen any part of the country of my forefathers , 
nor until now, the Dead Sea and the city of Machserus. 
I spoke of the wonders of the place, and of the magnifi- 
cence of his father to whom it owed its existence. 

“Yes,” he said, “Herod was a great man. But It 
had been better for Israel, had he been great as a Jew, 
rather than as a man and a king. He was a Roman, or 
a Greek, not a true son of Abraham.” 

“It was very true,”' I said, “and it was the more 
a matter of rejoicing, that his son in that departed from 
the example of the parent, and was a lover of his own 
country and people, and their customs, yet without 
a deadly hatred to others. The people were now in 
expectation, that through him their ancient greatness 
might be restored.” 

“ It is my glory,” he replied, “ to be, and to be called 
a Jew ; a lover of the Law, and an observer of its com- 
mands. The people of Galilee and Percea know me only 


JULIAN. 


11 


as a Jew. If I am ever King of Israel — I shall be King 
of Israel.” 

I said, that I could not doubt that he would be; yet it 
rested with himself. 

“Young man,” said he, “you speak well and boldly. 
Onias has commended thee to me. But for his word, 
which is sure as the roots of these hills, I should not talk 
with thee thus. But I now speak with thee even as I 
should with him,” 

I said, that he might do so with safety. I was now 
wholly a Jew, and so far desirous of the independence 
and liberty of my country, that I stood ready and wait- 
ing to join any enterprise that promised, through its ex- 
tent and well-concerted plans, the success that ought to 
crown it. 

“Thy countenance and thy voice give me assurance,” 
said Herod, “of trust-worthiness. But what set thee 
about that mad outbreak in Caesarea? Thy present 
speech agrees not with that. Pilate was too strong for 
thee. It would have gone ill with thee, as well as 
Philip, but for Onias. I should hardly else have seen 
thee here in Machaerus.” 

The possibility of such mischance seemed to amuse 
him. I then related to him minutely how it fell out 
there, and how it was by an accident alone that I had 
been involved in the enterprise. 

“ Ah, now again,” said Herod, “ you seem the same 
person who first spoke. I see what swayed thee, friend- 
ship and love, not the sacred passion for thy country, of 
which the occasion was not worthy. The great God of 
Israel, the God of Moses and of Abraham, of David and 
the Maccabees, is to be worshipped and served only in 


JULIAN. 


vz 

honorable undertakings, agreeing in their greatness with 
his majesty.” 

In saying these words the manner of the king changed, 
and I could see in him without difficulty one not unwor- 
thy to reign over Israel. He rose and continued with 
energy. 

“ Unhappy Israel ! when shall her sorrows cease, her 
oppressions end, her tears be wiped away from her eyes ! 
All the nations of the earth have taken their fill in the 
slaughter of her children, and carrying them away into 
captivity. The king of Babylon, and the king of Syria, 
have in turn laid her waste. But as truly as God did 
bring about a return from the captivity, and a deliver- 
ance from the great Antiochus, so surely will he accom- 
plish a greater redemption still, from a greater thraldom, 
by the hand of the least of his servants. Rome shall 
yet know that there is a greater than herself; Judea shall 
yet know that her Redeemer liveth ; the multitude of the 
peeple shall yet rejoice in her salvation. Unto me, Ju- 
lian, unto me is committed this office, and to the least 
iota shall its duties be fulfilled.” 

“ I believe it,” I answered ; “ with all Israel, as one 
man, at thy back, thou canst not fail. But Israel is di- 
vided. How shall she be brought together, in one faith 
and one submission V 

“ That is the work,” replied the Tetrarch, “ we have 
to do. Ere one step in action can be taken, the mind 
and heart of the people must be assailed and converted. 
Already, Julian, has this been done beyond thy knowl- 
edge or belief. Emissaries, secret, and partners as it 
were of my own bosom, have gone out hence into every 
corner of the land, learning who were to be trusted, and 


JULIAN. 


13 


to them confiding the purposes we cherish. The Hero- 
dians, ever lovers of our house, are with us. They will 
be divided from Rome whom they now affect, but, as 
they perceive, in seeming only ; to be more than reward 
ed for all they may lose, in a future Rome here in Ju 
dea. In that new Rome, that new and more glorious 
kingdom, they shall have free indulgence in the customs 
they approve. The redeemed Jew shall be bound by 
no chains of a new slavery. Dost thou understand V 9 

I did not understand the glance with which he accom- 
panied those words. 

“ The Law will then,” I replied, “ surely be supreme ; 
it will be raised to new honor, and a wider dominion ; 
it will be the everlasting foundation on which we shall 
stand.” 

“ Oh, surely, surely,” he answered ; “ the Law will be 
supreme. It is for that we war, for that we dare all, for 
that we put in jeopardy our lives and our children and 
our wealth. But — but enough of this for once, young 
Roman. Let us break away from a theme so grave, 
and look abroad upon the wonders of a place, as yet so 
new to thee.” 

Thus saying, he directed me to accompany him to 
other parts of the palace, and of the Fortress, and he 
would display to me its resources. This I was by no 
means unwilling to do. So we left the apartment. 

After we had surveyed the splendors of the palace — 
the halls, the banqueting rooms, the chambers, the mar- 
ble roofs, the carved ceilings of Cedar of Lebanon, the 
columns and the porticos, we turned to the huge walls 
of this great prison-house, that by ascending them, and 
still more the lofty towers that shoot up from them at 
Vol. II.— 2 


14 


JULIAN. 


regular intervals, we might obtain a prospect of the re* 
gion round about. We soon, though only after a weari- 
some ascent, stood on the top of the topmost tower, 
whence the eye looked abroad as far as it is in the power 
of the eye to penetrate, — no object coming between it 
and the utmost verge of the horizon. W e looked in 
silence for a space upon the broad land of Judea lying be- 
fore us in its luxuriance, yet in its slavery.” 

“ All that we now see,” cried Herod, pointing to the 
four quarters of Heaven, “ shall yet be mine — by my 
arm shall Jehovah get the victory, upon me is his spirit 
and his power poured out, this my soul knoweth, and by 
me shall be filled the throne of David. Have faith in 
this, Julian, and thou shalt sit on the right hand of my 
power when I shall have obtained the Kingdom.” 

I said that the reward of having served Israel accord- 
ing to my strength was all that I coveted. 

“Nevertheless,” said the Tetrarch, “more shall be 
added. He that worketh for love shall reap the best 
reward, the reward that love alone can give ; but he shall 
not lose what cometh of the world’s honor. Let us now 
descend.” 

We then descended; but when we had reached the 
bottom of the tower, in place of passing out by the 
door through which we had entered, Herod took a con- 
trary direction, and beckoned me to follow him, and 
again to descend still farther. So we began to descend 
lower and lower, until, as it seemed, we must have 
reached the roots of the mountain, and the fountains of 
the great springs. But at length we paused, and draw- 
ing the bolts of a door we entered a vast hall perfectly 
finished after the rules of art, lighted, but whence I saw 


JULIAN. 


15 


not, and filled with all the various munitions of war. 
It was an armory of weapons of every kind known to 
the arts of modern warfare, all of the most perfect 
workmanship and arranged, each kind by itself, in the 
most exact order. I was filled with amazement at such 
displays of power ; but it was increased when from this 
apartment I was led into another, and still another of 
equal dimensions, and all in like manner stored with the 
implements of death, with harness for men, and horses, 
and elephants. I gave words to the wonder which I 
could not repress, and asked, “ Why is all this and 
whence I” 

“ Thanks to the Providence of the Great God of Is- 
rael,” replied the Tetrarch, “ his servant has been led to 
lay aside from the uses of luxury and a vain show, 
wherewith to heap together these treasures, richer than 
stores of gold, and kept against the day of the Lord, 
that great day, when Israel shall arise and shake off her 
oppressors. Herod the Great built cities and palaces, 
and strongholds ; Herod Antipas hath filled them with 
both men and arms. It is not thou seest without a show 
of right, Julian, that he asks thy confidence and allegi- 
ance.” 

I said that I confessed his greatness. 

We then left the armories and again ascended, but 
only a part of the way, when Herod, by a door opening 
toward another quarter, entered an apartment lighted by 
windows pierced through the walls of the rock, and 
filled with vessels, in which were deposited coin and 
jewels of immense value. “ Here,” said my conductor, 
“ dost thou behold the secrets of the power that shall be 
displayed in Israel. Let but the children of Israel come 


1C 


JULIAN. 


up to their tents as of old, when the Philistine was in tho 
land, and there shall not be wanting any other of the 
instruments of successful warfare. Think not, more- 
over, that thou hast now seen the whole of Herod’s 
power. At Herodium, at Tiberias, at Sepphoris, are 
there magazines not less well supplied than these thou 
hast seen here. We wait but for the day and the hour, 
which the Lord hath put in his own hand.” 

We returned to the courts around the Palace. I 
was there shown the huge reservoirs of water prepared 
for the subsistence of those who should be besieged, the 
granaries for the necessary supplies of food, and all the 
various stores in secret chambers within the body of the 
outward -walls, of missiles of every kind, as well as of 
the most combustible substances for the annoyance and 
destruction of the assailants. So that when I had seen 
all, it seemed to me a place now wholly impregnable ; 
to be subdued only, if at all, by years of patient wait- 
ing and watching, until the food within should be con- 
sumed, or pestilence do the work of the sword. • 

When we had ended this survey of a thousand won- 
ders, we reentered the apartment whence we had de- 
parted, where Herod informed me that I was no longer 
the guest of the merchant, but his own, and that Chuza, 
the Steward of the household, would conduct me to the 
part of the palace provided for me. 

As I sat within the apartment thus made ready for 
me, in that part of the palace where the -walls of the Fort- 
ress sinking with the form of the ground, the eye could 
freely wander over the whole adjacent country and the 
streets of the lower city, I could not but marvel at the 


JULIA W. 


17 


strange position in which I found myself, and the course 
that seemed now plainly to be marked out before me. I 
could from my windows survey the distant valley of the 
Jordan and the verdant slopes of Moab, together with 
the sandy deserts that we had traversed. This desert, 
said I to myself, and I say it to thee also, my mother, 
as it is the emblem of what thou hast been so many 
years, Judea, so these luxuriant valleys, smiling in 
plenty and in peace, are the type of what thou shalt be. 
I have found him who, if God withhold not his favor, 
shall accomplish th.y deliverance, and save thee out of 
the hands of thy enemies. 

It is from this watch-tower, my mother, that I write 
these things, overlooking these objects so full of interest 
to a lover of his county. Herod loads me with favors. 
But although I have been here many days, he hath con- 
versed only of such things as have been common to all. 
The palace is thronged with those, strangers from all 
countries, as well as his own family and friends, with 
whom he must divide his hours, and it is chiefly at the 
table in the sumptuous banqueting room, that I have 
met him since my first interview. There he has been 
surrounded by his great officers, his ministers, the chief 
citizens and lords of Machoerus and the Per sea, as well 
as strangers, and hath been in a manner inaccessible. I 
have observed in him, in whatever relation I have seen 
him, only the bearing that becomes a monarch. The 
daughter of Aretas, Fatnah, remains still in Tiberias, 
while Joanna, the wife of the Steward, and chief officer 
under Ilerod, performs the duties that had otherwise 
fallen to her. Of her I know nothing but that she is a 
devout woman, and in great esteem among our people. 


18 


JULIAN. 


Ziba brings me intelligence, such as he gathers among 
the servants and soldiers of the palace, that Fatnah will 
no- more reign in Machserus. They speak openly, he 
says, of the king’s love of Herodias, and that he will 
yet bring about what he has proposed to himself ; but 
that in such case war will ensue between him and the 
Arabian King. 

Yet of these things I have heard from no other. No 
credible reports of them have come to my ear through 
any of the guests, nor through any of the rulers of the 
synagogues. 

I have again conversed with Herod upon those mat- 
ters which brought me to Machaerus. He seems like 
one, who, using caution where he intends to bestow con- 
fidence, has waited to observe and know me under the 
ordinary circumstances of every day, ere he would en- 
trust to me further what concerns so immediately the 
welfare of himself and kingdom. It was in the most 
secret apartments of the palace that he again required 
my presence. 

“ Julian,” said he, “ I at first showed thee my willing- 
ness to confide in thee, because thou earnest to me from 
Onias. For thy uncle’s sake I put my trust in thee, 
and made to thee revelations such as have been made to 
few so young in the knowledge I have had of them. I 
have now seen thee for myself, and from this time, for 
thine own sake, nothing is withheld, if it be that thy pur- 
poses still continue as they were.” 

I told him that nothing had happened to change them. 
I waited but to know all he would impart. Whatever 
should be committed to me, I would perform. 

He then gave me, with minuteness, an account of 


JUI/lAtT. 


10 

all that had hitherto been done in Judea, of the persons 
associated with him, and the forces of every kind that 
would be at their command ; of the obstacles yet lying 
in the way, and the services required of those who en- 
gaged in his affairs. 

“Of thee, Julian,” said he, “we desire services in 
Jerusalem, Caesarea, and Rome. Moneys are to be 
raised. Notwithstanding what thou hast seen, it is but 
as a tithe of what the all-devouring jaws of war will con- 
sume. The faithful at Rome, where they are powerful 
both for numbers and their great wealth, are to be ap- 
proached by a skilful messenger, that they may be 
wrought upon to contribute of their riches, although 
they should refuse to serve in our armies. And in 
truth we can spare them from our ranks, so they will 
but impart freely of that which is better. Whom so 
well could we depute upon this great errand as thyself? 
Moreover, communications by word of mouth are yet 
to be had with Sejanus, with whom we are bound in 
league. In this thou canst serve us. At what time 
Sejanus rises in Rome, and takes the crown of Tiberius, 
Herod rises in Judea and sits upon the throne of Israel. 
But what then, Julian? Is Judea to be then bound to 
Sejanus as now to Tiberius ? So thinks Sejanus ; and 
thus the league stands, — that when the armies of Tibe- 
rius are here defeated, as in Italy and the West, the 
East shall still through me be his. But so will not the 
league be kept. Judea once her own, the armies of 
Rome and of apostate Jews once defeated, Israel then 
reigns in her own right, her new kingdom is come, and 
it shall never pass away. Who sees not, that can see 
at all, how all things conspire together to this great 


20 


JULIAN. 


consummation ? Does Herod serve but as the tool of 
the Romans A Let the Roman look to it — let him look 
to it. He shall see betimes, who serves as tool of the 
other.” 

The quick twinkling eye of the Tetrarch expressed 
inward satisfaction, and . he smiled as the picture he 
drew rose before him. Although as in every bosom, 
there was in mine a loathing of deceit, yet who was to 
be deceived ? and what and to whom was to be the 
profiting 1 It was but to be a deceiving of the great 
deceiver himself, and that to win life and liberty, a 
home and a kingdom for the Israelite, long a wanderer, 
or a slave on his own soil. The scheme, as I gazed 
upon it, grew into honor and beauty, as it was in its 
craft undoubtedly auspicious of success. 

I, therefore, as Herod ceased, commended what he 
had said, and engaged on my part to further his plans, 
as he should desire, in Rome, Jerusalem, or Csesarea. 

“There lieth now in our way then,” continued the 
Tetrarch, “ but one obstacle.” 

He paused. 

I asked, “ and what is that ?” 

“John the Baptist,” he answered, with bitterness; — 
“ that wild man of the woods.” 

“ I see in him no harm,” I answered. “ He seems in- 
deed, not only to be harmless, but even a just man.” 

“ That is it — that is it,” replied the Tetrarch ; “ the 
people honor him, and he cannot therefore be touched 
so well. But he distracts their minds, and draws them 
away from where they are by us to be directed, and 
kept. It is reported, he even setteth up for Christ. At 
least the people are full of wonderings and doubts, and 


JULIAN. 


21 

many believe he will so prove himself, in the face of all 
present appearances to the contrary.” 

But I replied, “ He has strictly denied that he is 
Christ, and claims only to be a prophet. Besides, the 
people seeing none of the marks of the Christ in his 
manner of life or acts, will soon forsake him.” 

“ It seemeth not so as yet, and it is now since the 
Tabernacles that he hath led about the people, preach- 
ing sedition. He must be silenced.” 

“ Let him be seized by thy power,” I replied, “ and I 
fear the issue would be disastrous rather than helpful to 
our cause. It would turn against thee the affections of 
multitudes who now throng him and believe in him. 
Let him alone, and though he may instruct or amuse 
the people, of what injury to us can be his baptisms of 
water in the Jordan ? It is but so much water gathered 
up and poured out again.” 

“That may be,” replied the king. “But there is 
more in John than his baptisms, which, as thou sayest, 
are but so much water of the Jordan caught up and 
poured into the stream again. He preacheth — and 
preacheth sedition among my people. He hath inter- 
meddled with my affairs. Were it not for the people, 
his idiot, wonder-loving worshippers, his head had ere 
this graced our palace gates.” 

I knew well that in what he had said Herod now re- 
ferred to Herodias and to John’s accusations on that ac- 
count. It was plain that the rumors were well founded, 
else why the anger of the Tetrarch and his language 1 In 
what I myself condemned I could not be silent, and 
though I more than doubted the issue, I resolved to do 
what in me lay to draw the king away from a purpose 


22 


J ULIANA 


that, as I firmly believed, would blast all the hopes he 
was cherishing, and so many with him. 

“ And doth not John the Baptist counsel well, O King ? 
If he intermeddleth in thy affairs, it is to save t'npe. 
Thou canst not marry Herodias without guilt in the eye 
of the Law — without ruin to thy cause.” 

“ Thou art over bold, young man,” said Herod start- 
ing, his countenance changing with passion; “It was 
not for this I placed my confidence in thee. Beware 
the chafed lion.” 

“ If I see thee, Herod, about to fall from a precipice, 
am I in fault to hold thee back ? I say again — and I 
fear thee not — to put away thy wife for Herodias is 
folly, and guilt, and ruin. Have I not just pledged 
myself to thy cause? Am I not then invested with 
some rights ? Shall I stand idly by and see thee de- 
stroy not only thyself, but me, my friends, and my 
country’s hope ?” 

“ Say on, young man, say on,” said the Tetrarch, 
“ thou art bold, but I can honor courage.” 

“ I have no more to say,” I answered, “ than to be- 
seech the king, as he loves his cause and his country, to 
refrain from that to which he hath put his hand.” 

“ But,” said Herod, suddenly calm again, “ I am 
bound ; it cannot be ; my word is plighted.” 

“Bind thyself to the right, O King, though in so 
doing thou shouldst break thy word. Thou canst in 
nothing be true, being false to God. Why shouldst 
thou covet this divorce ? Is not thy Fatnah the daugh- 
ter of a king ?” 

“She is an Arabian. The wife of the King of Isiael 
should be a Jewess*” 


J ULIAN. 


23 


“A Jewess, rightly considered, is one who feareth 
God and worketh his will ; not who was born of Jewish 
parents. Is she not virtuous and fair ?” 

“ Aye, and weak. Herodias is the great Herod in 
female form. With her — and I were doubly armed.” 

“ As we hear, Fatnah is full of kindly virtues — a 
mother to her people.” 

“ But she is barren.” 

“Yet were Herodias fruitful as the vines of Judea, 
the sin would be but the more — she is thy brother’s 
wife !” 

The face of Herod again swelled with passion — as if 
he could bear no more. But he suppressed it. 

“Young Roman, he is no brother of mine — I swear 
it.” 

“Is not Philip of Jerusalem thy father’s son? son of 
the Great Herod ?” 

“ But yet no brother of mine — for else were half the 
men of Jerusalem, nay of Judea, methinks, my bro- 
thers. I can choose nowhere without incest. This is 
no kindred in the sight of God, or man.” 

“ It stands so,” I answered, “ in the law, — and in the 
Jewish courts.” 

“ In the letter of the law, it may be,” he answered, 
“but not in its spirit; and for the Jewish courts, they 
are beds of rottenness, and schools but of fraud and cun- 
ning. So too, if as thou wilt doubtless further urge, He- 
rod ias be the daughter of Aristobulus and so my broth- 
er’s daughter, I reply again, I own him not. He was no 
brother of mine. Archelaus was indeed my brother — 
Olympias is indeed my sister, children of Malthace as 
well as of Herod — but beyond them I know no brother, 


JULIAN. 


^4 

no sister, or else wert thou perhaps a brother, and Joanna ; 
Chuza’s wife, a sister.” 

“Think not, G King,” I replied, “to rest in reasons 
such as these. They are but gilded toys that amuse the 
mind awhile, and perhaps may dazzle the minds of others 
for a time, but they are of no solid worth ; and the eye 
and the mind will soon see them as they are. The peo- 
ple of our land, if in many things they are corrupt, if 
they honor not the law of Moses, as they ought, yet they 
revere, in some sort, the great law of justice written by 
the finger of God on the heart, before which the high and 
the low are alike arraigned, and will be judged in the great 
day, — and so it is not, O King, the voice of John alone 
that condemns and accuses, it is the voice of the people, 
and so the voice of God. They behold thee about to 
Commit injustice and folly in Israel, and their tongues 
rebuke thee ; and those the more who are building on 
thee their hopes of redemption. Can they think that he 
who abuses a lesser power shall safely be entrusted with 
a greater ? Shall not righteousness become the anointed 
of the Lord? Shall any other rule in his name? Thou 
trustest, Herod, even that thou shalt be hailed the Christ 
of God ! and thou knowest that many now do hold thee 
so. But shall that faith abide ? For in his Messiah the 
Jew looks not merely for the son of David, but the son 
of God; not only for the King, but the Priest and Pro- 
phet also ; for the sovereign, but for the reformer, not 
less, of his fallen country. Thou art tearing that faith 
violently out of Jhe hearts of those in whom it was tak- 
ing root. I, even I, have deemed that upon thee God 
was now about to lay his honor ; that in thee the new 
kingdom should take its beginning ; that though thou bo 


Julian. 


25 


not indeed the expected Messiah, thou art his forerunner, 
and he by whom the way is to be prepared for the estab- 
lishment of the reign that is to be eternal. Destroy not 
the hopes thus raised in so many hearts, for whose fulfil 
ment there has been so long tarrying. Leave us our faith. 
Abandon not those who gather together beneath thy stand- 
ard. We are ready and waiting at thy chariot wheels to 
bear thee on to victory. Send us not away empty and 
despairing.” 

While I said these and many other things, not knowr- 
ing what might befall, the countenance of the king 
waxed pale and red by turns, and his frame trembled. 
When I had ceased, he said with a voice scarce articulate 
through the raging of inw'ard passion, 

“ 1 swear, by the soul of my father, young Jew, that I 
have now a mind to see thee hurled from the topmost 
tower of Machaerus a thousand fathoms into the gulphs 
below\ Am I a king to be thus bearded by a boy 1 
Thou standest there immovable and undaunted, as 
though thou wert the king, and I an arraigned male- 
factor! Who art thou? Mayhap thou art the Christ ? 
or else Elias V 1 

So greatly was Herod transported by his passion, and 
withal a sort of terror, that in these last words he seem- 
ed as much in earnest, as in derision. He hastily walked 
back and forth as if wavering in his mind — and resolving 
with difficulty. 

At length he paused before me again, his countenance 
now calmer, but with a language spread over it, which 1 
could not read. 

“Young Jew, I am willing to believe thou hast spoke 
the truth.” 

Vol. II.— 3 


26 




“1 am sure,” I answered with force, “of nothing sc 
much.” 

“ Wouldst thou repeat it ?” cried the Tetrarch with re- 
turning passion. 

“ If it would help thee, or Judea, I would repeat it an 
hundred times.” 

“ Thou art like the face of the Dead Sea — no raging 
moves thee. But of this no more. Listen. I am sure 
now that thou art honest and true. There lives not the 
man who else liad dared to thrust himself as thou hast 
done into the lion’s den. I can now trust thee for a 
friend of Israel, whom no fear of peril or death shall turn 
aside from the true path that leads to her honor. There 
is no place of glory, or of power to which thou mayest 
not aspire. I have for thee the witness of Onias and thine 
own. But one thing I have now found, that thou hast 
eyes before and behind, and canst penetrate the dark. 
Let there then be no deceit betwixt me and thee. Touch- 
ing the wife of Philip of Jerusalem, I believe thou hast 
spoke in part the truth. I see the weight of thy reasons, 
and I shall honor and keep the law- — as thou eonstruest 
the law — whilst the occasion demands. Till the battle 
is gained there shall be no Jew so observant of the law 
as I. The liberty of Israel shall not suffer harm through 
me. My loves and my hates shall alike submit them- 
selves to her interests. Surely in this I show myself a 
Jew, as devout as any Pharisee in Jerusalem. What 
thinkest thou ?” 

I said, that in yielding so much he did well, and 
1 doubted not that he would in the end fully keep the 
law. 

“ Think no such thing, young man,” replied the king. 


JULIAN. 


57 


u Let there be no deceit, I say, between me and thee. 
Give not up thy own judgment; thy last words show 
thee halting. Mayhap thou still conceivest hopes of me 
as of the anointed of God ?” 

“ Nay, not so far as that. They are vanished.” 

“ Thou was then a fool with the rest in Israel ?” 

“ I was in doubt.” I was ignorant. But I doubt no 
longer. Now I know.” 

“ And yet, Jew, why now so confident on the other 
side ? Who shall fathom the purposes of the most high 
God ? of him who holds the universe in the hollow of his 
hands, who sees of all enterprises the end from the be- 
ginning, and can accomplish the mightiest plans by the 
humblest and basest instruments ? Verily if thou art 
sure, Son of Alexander, that I am not the Christ, thou 
art surer than I. The people think me so. They call 
on me to arise, and Appear ! Secret messengers arrive 
from all parts of the land and hail me King of Israel ! 
Son of God ! the long looked-for Messiah ! I have not 
been to them, they have come to me. What is the 
spirit that moves them ? May it not be the spirit of 
Jehovah? Who can say? When such things have 
been, and I have turned back into myself and mused, 
have thought of my present power, and the sure grasp I 
now may lay on the Roman greatness here in Israel, 
crushing it as a sea-bird’s egg, and the future has thus 
risen before me, it hath truly seemed as if God were in 
very deed working with me.’ Visions have come and 
gone, there have been inward promptings and impulses, 
and influxes of celestial light, that have been as the voice 
of God, calling on me to arise, and make haste, and tarry 
not, for the great redemption was drawn nigh, and by 


28 


JULIAN. 


my hand was it to be wrought out. Who can say more 
than this 1 And who shall dare to say that I am not the 
Redeemer of Israel 1” 

Herod now seemed another being. His voice became 
plaintive and reverent, his countenance opened with ex- 
pressions of generosity and faith. He seemed like one 
who was no trifler or cajoler, but a true believer in his 
own words ; as if he were in no respect the same person 
who had said what had gone before. But in a moment 
longer, when the sudden flame had died away, he sank 
down again into his more proper self, and I beheld only 
the Tetrarch of Galilee, powerful, shrewd, and dan- 
gerous. 

Suddenly turning to me he then added, 

“ J ulian, from this day we are friends. My heart is 
known to thee, and thine to me. To others, we are, as 
we may be. Let us go on together in peace in the great 
work set for us to do. ; Let all else be forgot but the 
one common aim and end, the overthrow of Rome and 
the glory of Israel. Leave me to do with the people as 
I may. What fancies soever concerning me they may 
have, let them have them- — and they may be more than 
fancies. God knoweth — -not man.” 

I said, that I was bound to him and would serve him. 
There was a darkness which at present I could not pene- 
trate; but I should wait for light to fall upon it from 
the great source of light. 

W e then conversed of the present condition of affairs 
in the Pertea, in Galilee, and Judea; of the measures 
next to be pursued, and of those fittest to undertake 
them. 

While we thus conversed, it was told to Herod, that 


JULIAN. 


?9 

some one required to see him. Chuza then entered, 
saying that Onias had arrived, and desired to see both 
him and J ulian of Rome. 

“He is welcome,” cried the King; “let him ap- 
proach.” 

Onias in a few moments more was with us. 

“Welcome, Prince of the Jordan,” cried Ilerod, as 
the noble form of Onias appeared. “ Welcome to Ma- 
chaerus. Let it not be an offence if I say, that thy 
kinsman here hath for a season blotted thee out of our 
thoughts.” 

“ I am happy,” replied Onias, “ whenever a worthier 
is found for one less so.” 

“ Not a worthier, Onias,” rejoined the King, “ only a 
newer. The new has an early worth, that for a season 
outshines all other ; but it is not trusted, nor does it 
last, as the old. Thou, Onias, art old wine from the 
vats of Herod in Caesarea. Thy kinsman, Julian, but 
the squeezings, rich and rare, of the last vintage. This 
minds me — how went the vintage with thee on the Jor- 
dan, Onias ?” 

‘‘The presses could scarce do the work,” he replied, 
“ the vines made for them. They bent even to break- 
ing with their heavy burdens.” 

“ And the vine of vines,” continued the King, “that 
clings round thee — thy fair daughter, Judith, how fares 
the damsel ?” 

“ She is well,” briefly answered Onias. 

“ But favors not the royal cause,” rejoined the King.” 

“ Only as of old.” 

“ Ah, she is fond of dreams like youth,” said Herod ; “ I 
3 * 


so 


J ULIAN. 


warrant John Baptist takes her fancy, — But what, Onias, 
of John ? where resorts he now 

“ He is now,” replied Onias, “ in the wilderness of 
Jordan, nigh unto Bethabara; where many, as I learn, 
are still gathered to his Baptism. I passed on my way 
through the village, but he with his followers was with- 
drawn into the deep valleys among the neighboring 
hills.” 

So, on these and the like themes, we for a while con- 
versed. 

Wholly unexpected as was the appearance of Onias, 
I was yet rejoiced to see him. I felt that I needed some 
one, to whom to turn for counsel in the position in which 
I found myself, and thy brother, although himself al- 
most a stranger, seemed now and here where I stood 
alone, like a parent. When our first interview with 
Herod was over, and he had dismissed us until the hour 
of supper, it was with a sense of relief not easy to im- 
agine, that I imparted to him such of my difficulties and 
doubts, as without treachery to the Tetrarch I was still 
at liberty to speak of. I was happy in obtaining his 
approval in what I had done and in what I had promised. 
He himself I found more than ever elated with the pros- 
pect that was now opened, of immediate and prosperous 
action. His fervent and holy zeal rekindled what of mine 
had began to grow cold ; so that after even a brief com- 
munion with him I also was impatient that our affairs 
should be brought to a speedy issue. 

Herod having constrained us, we have passed many 
days within his palace and city ; but they have been 
days of busy care in the thing which chiefly concerns us. 
Messengers have arrived, and letters from those in the 


JULIAN. 


si 


confidence of the Tetrarch, and have been despatched in 
return, -whose object is in great part to infuse every 
-where that leaven, which shall work in the hearts of 
those where it hath been deposited, and from them still 
spread, till it shall raise all to one pitch of devotion to 
God, and the birth and growth of his kingdom. 

In the leisure that has here fallen to my share, I have 
traversed the shores of the Dead Sea in the immediate 
neighborhood of Machserus, and surveyed on all sides 
the wonderful position of this impregnable Fortress. 
Nature herself has made it almost perfect in its security, 
and art has more than added w r hat was left incomplete. 
Nature too has supplied what, in a region so abounding 
in rock and sand, she generally denies, copious fountains 
of water springing up among the deep fissures. And as 
if designing it for the abode of those whom she greatly 
favored, there wells up not only water, cold and pure as 
the springs of Lebanon, but that which is both hot and 
medicinal also. Boiling springs shoot up in many 
places, and pour over the rocks into basins below, some- 
times natural and sometimes w'rought by art, their heal- 
ing waters ; to which there resort constantly, not only 
from Machaerus, but from Ilerodium and the country 
round about, multitudes of the diseased to try their 
virtues. Everywhere among these deep and rocky 
chasms are there signs of heat, in the waters which thus 
rise to the surface as if driven upward by subterranean 
forces, and in the smoke which oozes everywhere from 
out the soil — ascending, we may believe, from the flam- 
ing caverns where the ancient cities of Idolatry lie en- 
gulphed, whose inhabitants, while some are drowned in 


32 


JULIAN. 


floods of water, others are buried in lakes of eternal fire, 
ever burning, yet ever unconsumed. 

Many being now at Machaerus from all parts of Judea, 
who are secretly joined with Herod in his plans, he has 
given a banquet, to which those were invited only, to 
whom he has declared himself more fully. This feast 
was had not in the banqueting room of which I have al- 
ready spoken, but in one in a less public part of the pal- 
ace, within the Fortress, separated by other buildings 
and lofty walls from the sight and hearing of all save 
those who are specially permitted to approach. 

This room is vast, and of those dark Egyptian forms, 
which, notwithstanding their beauty, do also carry with 
them a sort of terror, with which they fail not to im- 
press the mind of the beholder. So is it seen in the 
Temple of Isis, not far from the Forum of Augustus, 
both in its outward but especially in the gloomy shapes 
of its interior decorations. Here the dark hue of the 
stone of which the columns were wrought could scarce 
be changed to a cheerful brightness, though the glare of 
innumerable lamps was cast upon them. The flames of 
the lamps themselves, the only source of what was 
bright, poured forth from the hissing jaws of fiery ser- 
pents ; or else in wreaths played around the sad faces of 
the melancholy Sphinx. From the table indeed, while 
the eye rested upon it, there shot up a splendor, which 
could hardly be borne, from the polished surface of in- 
numerable vessels of silver and gold, from pitchers of 
glass charged to the brim with wines of every hue, which 
gave back the light again in dazzling brilliance as from 
crystal itself, and from the robes of the guests gorgeous 


JULIAN. S3 

in their color and forms, woven of gold or silver thread, 
and thickset with all the jew r elry of the Orient. Herod 
himself seemed hardly to belong to the same race with 
those around him, so transformed did he seem by reason 
of the imperial magnificence of the shining tissues in 
which he w r as arrayed, and the glittering crown that 
adorned his head. Not less too did he seem to differ 
from others by the greatness of his bearing, which w'as 
more than that of a man or a king, and by which those 
who were present confessed themselves awed, or op- 
pressed. There was no rude clamor or noisy mirth, as 
is customary when men assemble to enjoy the hour. 
The luxuries came and went untasted, or w^ere eaten 
sparingly. They who conversed spoke in tones scarce 
audible, not in those of grief, but of deepest earnestness. 
We were as a company of persons too grave from the 
greatness of the thoughts that were in each heart, to be 
seduced to any wantonness by the enticements of the in- 
viting board. For each who sat at its side was a Jew 
— who came there burdened with the care of his coun- 
try’s deliverance, and knowing that now the final pledge 
was to be given and received of loyal devotion to her 
cause, and to him to whom as chief they had consented 
to entrust its conduct. The signs of deep thought and 
anxious musing were on the dark faces of my country 
men — whom but for the mockery, as it seemed, of theii 
brilliant garments, and the surrounding glare, one might 
have taken for a secret assembly of assassins. The 
music too, that poured in upon us its harmonies, seemed 
in its wailing notes, or sepulchral tones to be a strange 
contradiction to the purpose for which we were gathered 
together, and as if prophecy ing against us. It was not 

c 


34 


JULIAN. 


easy to shake one’s spirit free from the power which ac- 
cidents were thus disposed to exercise over it. Doubts 
and apprehensions arose out of mere shadows, at which 
it was easier to force a smile, than to dismiss them from 
the mind. 

The feast, I need not say, was therefore brief. That, 
the design of which was to give pleasure alone, was the 
only thing that gave discomfort, or pain. For when the 
attending servants of the banquet were withdrawn, and 
the sound of the music was hushed, and each one gave 
utterance to the real feelings that -were within, then in- 
deed a change came over the countenances of those who 
sat there. Alone, and each was gloomy and despondent ; 
but when we were one, by each sharing the sentiments 
of the other, all w r ere alike cheerful and confiding. Many, 
obtaining the ear of the whole assembly, did not fail to 
increase the ardor of those who listened, by the reasons 
which they urged for the enterprise at the present mo- 
ment, and against an increased delay. And what chance 
of failure would there be, they urged, with a chief, 
whose providence had supplied, while others had slept, 
arms and harness for every Israelite who would use 
them, and by his league with the aspiring Sejanus, had 
secured the aid of Rome herself in the work of her own 
destruction ! 

But the passions of all were inflamed to the highest 
pitch, as Herod himself, when he had listened in silence 
to what had been said by others, arose and defended the 
cause in which he had engaged, showed from the Scrip- 
tures the fitness of the time for the deliverance for which 
all were looking, related the steps which by him alone 
and without concert had been taken, and laid open before 


JULIAN. 


35 


all an exact enumeration of the stores of every kind of 
armament he had heaped together in cities and fortresses, 
■which he named, described the numbers of those — prin- 
cipal Jews in every part of Palestine — who were already 
bound to him, and the measures to be adopted for se- 
curing the aid of the Israelites of Rome, and those 
dwelling in the. other cities of Asia and Europe. What 
Jew was there, he asked, whether of Judea, Galilee, or 
P erica, or even Samaria, who, however Providence might 
have cast his lot, would not add of his substance to the 
treasury of the Lord ; would not clamor to be per- 
mitted to put forth his strength to rescue Jerusalem, the 
city of the Great King, from the pollution of the Gen- 
tile. Many times had Jerusalem suffered from the op- 
pressor ; many times had Israel been beneath the feet of 
the conqueror; but never had her captivity been such as 
now. For now there are those even, who are pleased 
with their slavery, who cherish this union, though of de- 
pendence, with the mistress of the earth ; who are losing 
the character of the Jew in that of the Roman ; who, 
like our ancestors of old, are joining themselves to idols. 
Who knows not that our very taxes are gathered by 
Jewish hands to be paid into the Gentile’s treasury 1 ? In 
Babylon we mixed not with the blood of the conqueror, 
nor joined his rites, nor followed his customs, nor ever 
gloried in our shame. In Egypt we remained a people, 
distinct and peculiar, and as we entered it so we departed 
from it, the likeness of the twelve Patriarchs seen in all 
the thousands of their descendants. Now we are falling 
each day more and more into the mass of all-engulphing 
Rome ; where, like so many other nations, we too shall 
be swallowed up and lost. What captivity was ever to 


30 


JULIAK. 


be compared with this ? And what though it was to 
his own ancestors — to whom so much as Herod the 
Great — that this apostacy was to be traced for its begin- 
ning 1 What though he himself had joined hand in hand 
with the great iniquity, what though the sect among the 
people that bore his name was a Roman party, these 
were but the more urgent reasons for immediate action, 
— that before it was too late, and the spirit of the nation 
utterly dead, their remaining strength might be put forth 
for its salvation. The time was now come, he was 
assured as from God himself, the hour was now arrived, 
he knew it by the spirit of prophecy, that the hopes of 
this great people were to be fulfilled. The weeks of 
Daniel the Prophet were numbered ; the sceptre had de- 
parted from Israel,— Rome wields it — and the lawgiver 
from between her feet, and the day when Shiloh should 
appear had dawned. It is the event that shall seal the 
prophecy, the deed done that shall show* the Prophet. 
Our care is to redeem Israel. That being done, our 
sight will be clear to know her King in her Redeemer, 
and greet him as rightful head of a kingdom, who hath 
saved it; a kingdom of which there shall be no end, 
whose boundaries shall be those of the whole world. 

As Herod ceased, and even before he ceased, loud 
cries of exultation broke from those who, as the Tc- 
trarch had spoken, had gathered round him. “ Ilerod,” 
said some, “ is the Christ we need.” “ All things show 
Herod to be the true Messiah,” said others; “many 
times have we been deceived, but now we are sure.” 
“ Israel redeemed from captivity will show us who is the 
Christ.” “ Do not all proofs and signs point to Ilerod ?” 
“If we may not believe in him, where shall we look ? 


JULIAN. 


37 


for the time is now come, and will soon be past.” “ The 
people make their own Messiah ; let them join them- 
selves heartily to Iierod, and by him they will save 
themselves.” These and a thousand exclamations like 
them, in a confused murmur filled the air. 

When it had subsided, and others, and among them 
Onias, had declared their faith and their purposes, and 
by their ardor had helped still more to stir the passions 
and kindle the zeal of all who were present, and by their 
arguments had added to the confidence they were dis- 
posed to place, in Herod, — the company separated. 

But many times have the same persons again as- 
sembled, that they might make yet more perfect the 
schemes they have taken in hand, and learn, by informa- 
tion derived from those who dwell in different and dis- 
tant parts of the land, the true state of the Jewish mind 
in those regions. When all had thus been done, in which 
it was necessary that we should bear a part, we took our 
leave of Herod, and departed from Machserus. 

Such, my mother, have been my fortunes at Mac-ha)- 
rus, and thus do I stand towards Herod. In no long 
time, if I take upon myself the charge Herod would im- 
pose, will it be my office to visit Rome. Farewell. 


When I look back over the long period of time that 
has intervened, to the scenes witnessed by me at Madias 
rus, and to my intercourse with the Tetrarch, I can feel 
no surprise, that I gave myself to the extent I did, into 
his hands. As I recall the image of Herod, there was 
very much in his countenance, his demeanor, his form, 
Vol. II.— 4 


J U LI'AN . 


3& 

his voice, the manner of his speech, to affect the mind of 
any one coming within the charmed circle of his influ- 
ence, especially of a young man who is easily wrought 
upon by whatever partakes of the mysterious. That was 
the secret of Herod’s power. It was difficult, I should rath- 
er say impossible, to penetrate him. He ever assumed a 
new face, and one day appeared a different person, both 
in the aspect of his form and the state of his mind and 
the features of his character, from what he was another ; 
so that when it seemed as if some progress had been 
made, to-day, towards comprehending him, it was found, 
to-morrow, to have led to no results that possessed any 
value. And in respect of that strange fascination, cor- 
responding to what is ascribed to the more formidable 
serpents, by which he drew those whom he desired into 
his control, and compelled them to do his will against 
their own, and yet freely, it can only be said, that no 
other person of whom I have ever heard, either through 
history or otherwise, or have ever known, can be com- 
pared with him. There was by no means the great- 
ness of soul in him, which, notwithstanding his atrocities, 
must be allowed to have distinguished his father. But 
there was often the semblance of it, which it was not 
easy to distinguish from the reality. Subtlety and a 
mind fertile in expedients were qualities that particularly 
marked him. But above all others, that of which I have 
already spoken, — the serpent power was eminently his. 
1, in my youth, knew not what it was that held me. I 
only knew that there was an attraction in the man 
which, however, in some things and for some reasons 
would willingly resist it, ever obtained the mastery and 
prevailed. 


JULIAN. 


3D 


XIV. 


I trust, my mother, that my letter from Machcerus 
by the worthy hands of our neighbor, the Goldsmith, 
has been safely received. It was not until nearly tho 
last day of our tarrying there, that, among the crowds 
coming and going, my eye caught his familiar counten- 
ance, which instantly returned with smiles and friendly 
greetings my signs of recognition. His affairs have 
greatly prospered, he assured me, as we conversed at 
Machserus ; inasmuch as, out of many applicants, he has 
been chosen by Herod to work in gold and ivory a 
gigantic cup as a gift to Tiberius, and a vase of scarcely 
less size or value for Sejanus, both which labors he has 
undertaken, and trusts by the manner in which he shall 
perform them to transmit his name with honor to poster- 
ity. He will cover them with histories, commemorat- 
ing the principal events in the life of each of the great 
personages for whom they are designed. Truly he is an 
eminent artist ; but this appointment of his is not, as his 
vanity would persuade him, the great event of the times. 
There are some greater. Nevertheless the little worker 
in gold and ivory is an honest man, if vain, and I doubt 
not that, as he promised to do, ho has borne my letter 
safely, and himself placed it in your hands. 

Upon arriving again at the house of Onias, we were 
received, as you will believe, with joy by the solitary 


40 


JULIAN. 


Judith, — solitary I say, — for though there are, as I have 
already represented, many members of our wide spread 
family beneath her roof, and under her care, yet are 
there none to whom she can turn for that full companion- 
ship which she shares with her father, and now, though 
in less degrees, with myself. But though we relieved 
her solitude by our presence, I fear we brought little 
else to comfort her; for it was evident that all the news 
we imparted of the purposes of Herod and of our partner- 
ship in them was anything rather than agreeable to her. 
She could not, nor did she essay to disguise her grief. 

“No profiting, my father, I fear me,” she said, “can 
come to Israel by such an instrument. Herod is not he 
who should reign over Israel. It is another head we 
need. Aims he at anything save his own exaltation? 
The people are every day looking for their king, and 
Herod, building upon this fond expectation would offer 
them himself! What better would he be for Israel than 
his father? Could we think of Herod the Great as the 
Christ ?” 

“ He, my daughter, enslaved us to Rome, great as he 
was ; Anti pas delivers and redeems us.” 

“ And suppose, my father, we were redeemed and de- 
livered, and sat beneath an independent prince; I see 
not how we should be the gainers. How much differs 
Herod from Tiberius? With the power I fear he would 
show the cruelty and the lust of Tiberius. Such should 
not be the Messiah of Israel. It is a prophet, mighty in 
word and in deed, a teacher of righteousness, a reformer 
of our manners whom we want, not less, surely, than a 
King.” 

“ These, Judith, are the notions sown in thy brain by 


JULIAN. 


41 


thy Samaritan mother, (now in Abraham’s bosom,) and 
thy Samaritan nurse — a people — save that God, as in 
them, hath appeared in a few, cursed and reprobate. 
Reject they not the Prophets, and through them the 
couusels of God ? IIow should they judge worthily of 
the Saviour of Israel ?” 

“ Yet they believe in Moses, and Moses hath spoken 
of the Christ.” 

“ Moses, my child, knew and spoke but in part ; they 
who have come later have declared more fully the pur- 
poses of God. Why have the latter prophets come, but 
to add somewhat to what was known before ? And by 
them we know that Messiah shall be the King and 
Prince, as well as Prophet. Teacher he shall be — but 
Prince and Ruler also.” 

“ If so, my father, how' shall Herod fulfil the hope of 
Israel ? He may be King and Prince, but how shall he 
be Prophet and Instructor?” 

“ David, my daughter, was a sinner — but he was 
a prophet also. Solomon, the wisest of men was not the 
best — and Moses in his anger slew the Egyptian and hid 
him in the sand. Ilerod is not without spot; but God 
may pour into him what of his own wisdom he will, and 
when he hath delivered Israel by the pow'er of his arm, 
he may also purge and cleanse the soul, by the healing 
medicine of his truth. God shall shine so through him, 
that he shall be no longer himself, but shall be called 
Immanuel. In the works he shall do, and the w'ords he 
shall speak, he shall be God with us.” 

“ Oh ! far rather, my father, w'ould I, that even J ohn 
were He. God, we may believe, will, when he speaks, 
4 * 


42 


JULIAN. 


speak through a holy mouth. John is holy and wise. 
The people revere him.” 

“ Be not, my child, so easy to he led astray hy thy 
fancies, or the false pretences of cunning men. Thou 
knowest how' many since the time of Archelaus have 
brought slaughter, robberies, rebellion, and misery upon 
our land through their own wicked ambition. J ohn may 
prove but another of these. If from God, he seems to 
have no pow'er but such as may be sufficient, by and by, 
to inflame the multitude w r ith some mad expectation of 
dominion, which after a few r attempts to gain it, will end 
in confusion and blood. Whom God shall clothe with 
his authority, him will he strengthen with his arm, and 
the signs of his power shall be manifest. These are seen 
already in Herod and in only him. And throughout the 
length and breadth of the land are there those among the 
chief men, and in Jerusalem especially, who stand with 
their loins girded, and their lamps burning, waiting for 
the cry that shall announce him to have arisen, that he 
may enter into his kingdom. John, in Herod’s judg- 
ment, is but a habitation of devils ; and so, ere long, he 
trusts to prove it upon him.” 

But no arguings of Onias, nor of thy son, can prevail 
to change the fixed mind of Judith. Nor of her only. 
For more than ever are the people drawn towards John 
with expectations of they know not what. Great num- 
bers still flock to his preaching and his baptism, leaving 
their homes and their employments ; and although he 
does not as yet give any evidence that he is the person 
for whom they are waiting, yet they are persuaded that 
he will presently give such evidence, or will, according 
to his frequent declarations, be followed and accom- 


JULIAN. 


43 


panied by one in whom all the prophecies of the Scrip- 
tures, and all the wishes of the people shall find their 
fulfilment. 

****** 

Of late the declarations of the Baptist concerning 
another, of whom he is but the precursor, have become 
the more express and distinct. The thoughts of those 
who come to him are studiously turned from himself to 
one of greater power, who is soon to succeed him. Al- 
though John himself cannot intend to mark out Ilerod 
by the mysterious language he uses, yet it fails not to 
bring him before the minds of others, as the only one 
from whom it seems possible that help should come. 
So that unconsciously he lends strength to our cause. 
And we are persuaded, that, were Herod’s affairs now 
so far advanced that he could at once present himself 
before the nation, as he did before his few adherents at 
Machserus, the people would gather round him with a 
zeal, and with numbers and a power that Pilate w’ould 
in vain attempt to withstand. But alas! very much 
remains to be done ere such a step can be taken ; yet 
so confident are many of success under any circum- 
stances of action, so uneasy under delay, that our chief 
danger springs from the possibility of rash and sudden 
outbreaks of zeal, before the measures which w r e deem 
essential can be completed. The greater need of caution 
exists here from the so near neighborhood of the Ro- 
mans in Beth-TIarem, and our frequent intercourse with 
Saturninus. But Pilate believing himself to have no 
ground of apprehension beyond Onias, no suspicions 
attach to the many communications which now take 
place between us and Herod, and would not were they 


44 


JULIAN. 


known to Saturninus. But they are too well guarded 
to become known. 

* * * * * * 

We are, now that the force of the winter is spent, 
full of cares. Messengers arrive and depart by night, 
going and coming between Beth-IIarem r Machasrus, Ti- 
berias, Sepphoris, and Jerusalem. Herod’s adherents 
increase day by day, and our confidence with them. 
But as our confidence and hope increase the disappoint- 
ment and sorrow of Judith increase more than in a just 
proportion to them. She becomes now even vehement 
in her expressions of disapprobation, or detestation I 
should rather say, of Herod. All this Onias refers to 
her Samaritan nurture, and so leaves it. But in the 
heart of Judith God had planted that, I am sure, which 
demands more for its satisfaction than that which he 
hath bestowed upon others. It is not her rearing only 
that causes the difference. One needs only to observe 
her countenance, or listen to the sounds of her voice, to 
know that another and higher sense is in her ; and this 
especially when she is seen or heard reciting those parts 
of the Prophets which most delight or instruct her, or 
in singing to her harp at the close of a Sabbath day the 
sacred hymns of David. Never did the praise of the 
Divine Poet so exalt me, or his strains of penitence and 
sadness so depress me, as when borne to my ear on the 
voice of Judith. Yet whatever she may draw from the 
Prophets and the Law, and whatever she may impart 
to others, she feels and confesses dissatisfaction. Their 
words reach not high enough, they descend not deep 
enough for the cravings of her heart. What would she 
have ? 


JtJLIAW. 


45 


* * * * * * 

The successes of John, and the language which he con- 
tinues to use concerning Ilerodias, alarm and enrage 
the Tetrarch. To-day a messenger has arrived bearing 
letters to both Onias and myself. Ilerod thus writes 
to' Onias. 

“ I In rod Antipas, Tetrarch; to Onias of Beth-IIarem. 

“We hear concerning John, that he still preaches on 
the J organ, and that yet greater numbers attend him, 
drawn together in great part by the violence with which 
lie assaileth ourselves, our power, the prrests, the chief 
men among the Pharisees, and many others upon a 
proper reverence of whom, however, our law insisteth, 
and the welfare of the state dependeth. The minds of 
the people are moreover turned from us to him. We 
cannot look to obtain a place in their regards where he 
hath first entered, nor so long as he is allowed to keep 
possession. It is our will therefore, if it also seem good 
to you, that he be seized, and having been first scourged, 
be forbidden to baptize or preach within our realm, and 
dismissed from its borders. And if in the malice of his 
heart he should remain disobedient, that he be then sent 
close prisoner to Machaerus. Thus will the way be 
made clear of what is now a hindrance. 

Philip of Iturea joins us ; or which avails as much, 
standeth neuter. 

“ These will be delivered by the hand of our faithful 
Chuza.” 

It was plain from this epistle of Ilerod, that the spies 
whom he had constantly employed had not returned tc 
him an exact account of either the doings of the Baptist, 
or of the effects which they were producing upon tho 


4(5 


JULIAN. 


people. For nothing could appear more evident to 
Onias and myself, and to others /who were careful to 
observe narrowly, than that John was, with however 
little intention, preparing the way quite as much for 
Herod as for himself or any other person. In respect 
to his charges against the Tetrarch in the matter of his 
brother’s wife, the populace take but little thought 
about them, not knowing how the truth may stand, and 
leaving such affairs to be managed as it may please the 
parties concerned. The laws under which both Jew's 
and Samaritans change husband and wife are such, that 
acts of divorcement take place continually, and make 
but little stir. While therefore they pay slight regard 
to what John hath said of this, they have caught greed- 
ily at all that he hath let drop concerning his follower. 
His speech has indeed been ambiguous and obscure; 
either with intention so, or because he is an instrument 
merely in the hands of a Mightier Power, and utters 
oracles, by himself not clearly understood. No urgency 
of those who have pressed about him has availed to 
make such declarations more precise. The multitudes 
therefore have interpreted his language as their minds 
have prompted, and their secret wishes have directed. 
Very many, accordingly, have not doubted, that what- 
ever may have been the purpose of John, Herod is the 
person to whom they are to look. He has thus been 
set before the people more and more, and greater num- 
bers than before are coming to look upon his preten- 
sions with favor. The large sect of the Herodians is 
beginning, throughout their body, to unite to their at- 
tachment to the Herodian family, and the Roman usages 
they have introduced, a faith in Antipas as the great re- 


JULIAN. 


47 


storer, who, at the same time that he shall reestablish 
the independence of Judea, shall with a proper observ- 
ance of the Law, freely allow the licenses in which the) 
now indulge, and which they imagine to be needful to 
the extending of the influence of their Law and religion, 
and the gaining of proselytes beyond the bounds of 
Judea. 

Onias, considering these things, thought it not best 
that John should either be driven from the country, or 
suffer any injury at the hands of Herod, and wrote thus* 
to the Tetrarch. 

“ In the judgment,” said he, “ of those in whom thou 
art wont to put confidence, and to whom thou hast left 
the determination of the present affair, it would not tend 
to the furthering of that which we have in hand, were 
the Baptist driven from these regions, or by the soldiers 
ieized and scourged. The effects of his labors redound 
more to thy interests than even his own. For while he 
declares to the foolish multitudes who surround him, 
that he is not himself the Christ — a declaration not in 
truth needed to those, who have any discernment at all 
in the things of God — he at the same time saith that he, as 
Elias, hath preceded him, and that he shall soon appear. 
Wherefore it happens, that the people believing him to 
be a prophet, and seeking to discover whither he w r ould 
direct their thoughts, are in great numbers led to thee! 
For in no other quarter whatsoever can they behold a 
ray of light. If John, they say, be not the Christ, and 
he doth no miracle, nor giveth any other sign that he is 
that prophet, to whom can they look but to thee ? So 
that while he intendeth quite otherwise, John buildeth 
for thee ; notwithstanding that some, w r ho are utterly 


43 


JULIAN. 


without eyes or judgment, he sueceedeth in turning 
against thee. But for thy brother Philip’s wife, Great 
King, all Israel were on thy side. May Jehovah guide, 
and in due time exalt thee.” 

Letters in reply to this have been received from the 
Tetrarch, showing his acquiescence in the judgment of 
Onias, and consenting also, out of regard to urgent rep- 
resentations, to relinquish the further prosecution of his 
affair with Herodias. It was only on such consent on 
his part that I would agree to serve his cause. With 
others also it was made a condition of adherence. 

Since these things have been determined, a new vigor 
has been put into all his followers. Redoubled efforts 
are making, and the time draAvs instantly on, when what 
is now hidden and concealed will be revealed in the plain 
light of day. 

I am not surprised to learn from thy letters, that in 
Rome the same things are to be observed among many as 
here ; and I hear the like also of our people wherever they 
are scattered, whether in Greece, Egypt, or the farther 
East. There is among them all, as letters from all parts 
in form us, as well as the reports of merchants and travel- 
lers, one and the same expectation. Within the limits 
of Judea and Galilee the thoughts of all orders of peo- 
ple dwell upon this hope. The appearance, and much 
more the prophetic declarations of John, however dark 
and ambiguous, which, of late, both Onias and myself 
have heard from him with our own ears, have helped to 
impart to it new ardor, and give it a yet deeper place 
in the heart. All this works mightily for us; and 1 
trust before another moon it will be shown throughout 


jtr-iiA*. 


49 


all the coasts of Israel, that the hope on which they have 
fed has been neither poison nor ashes, but as the very 
food which God himself hath provided to nourish the 
soul, and be for the salvation of his people. Every day 
do the people groan beneath new exactions of our ava- 
ricious conquerors ; every day do they find their liberty 
abridged more and more, themselves and their children 
subject to cruelties the most wanton and oppressive. 
Pilate’s conduct in Csesarea, his massacres in Jerusalem, 
his slaughter of the Galileans while offering their sacri- 
fices, and the lesser acts of tyranny of which none or few 
hear or know save those who suffer, have served, together 
with what hath taken place on the Jordan, to put fire 
into men’s bosoms, and to kindle there a new and 
fiercer zeal for God, and his Law, and Judea. 

Vol. II.— 5 


o 


60 


j!n.T\n. 


XV. 


It is many days, my mother, since I last wrote. 
Strange events and unlooked for have happened in the 
meantime to keep me silent, and attentive only to what 
was taking place immediately around us. In the midst 
of our enterprises we have been suddenly arrested by 
the appearance of another prophet, if prophet he be, on 
the banks of the Jordan ! Where there was but one, 
there are now two where there was but J ohn, there are 
now John and Jesus, for that is the name of him who 
has now joined him. All the region round about us is 
in a ferment of curiosity and hope, and so distracted are 
men’s minds, that Herod, and all we who are joined 
with him, pause at once in our movements. Every arm 
must hang lifeless until what has now occurred shall re- 
ceive its interpretation. 

The account of these things was first received thus. 

It became necessary for me, in obedience to letters 
received from Ilerod, to depart for Tiberias, where dur- 
ing the spring and summer seasons, — as being cooler, — 
he chiefly resides. Ziba, having completed our prepara- 
tions, was awaiting me at the Portico overlooking the 
Jordan. As I stood conversing with Judith, unwilling 
to depart while that pleasure could be prolonged, choos 
ing also that the twilight should deepen farther into the 
evening shade ere I betook myself to the public ways, 


JULIAN. 


51 


Onias, who had been some days absent at Maehcerus, 
suddenly arrived. He had plainly ridden fast and far, 
the foam ran from the animal from which he sprang, and 
he himself seemed disturbed. When he had, as always, 
affectionately saluted us, he asked, “whither 1 was 
bound ?” 

I said, “ to Tiberias.” 

“ Since what has happened,” he replied, “ at Betha- 
bara, it can be of no service.” 

We asked, “ of what do you speak ? we have heard 
-nothing.” 

“That is strange,” replied Onias. “Beth-Harem I 
found stirred throughout. I marvel that Shammai and 
Zadok have not already been here. What I speak of,” 
continued Onias, “ is of the appearance of another pro- 
phet, or of the Messiah himself, on the banks of the 
Jordan at Bethabara.” 

We expressed our astonishment, and besought him to 
relate all he had learned. 

“ He came yesterday,” resumed Onias, “ to J ohn to 
receive with others his baptism. I had not yet arrived 
there. But thus I was told by those who were there. 
It was about the ninth hour of the day when, as John 
was baptizing in the stream, his kinsman, Jesus from 
Nazareth, came, among others, asking to be baptized 
also. They said that as John saw him approaching, he 
paused and looked steadfastly upon him with such sort 
of reverence in his eyes, as if he had beheld a person 
greatly exalted above himself, — yea, even as if he had 
seen an angel from Heaven, — and that at first he refused 
to baptize him, as being himself the inferior teacher, 
which did not fail to fill John’s disciples with the most 


52 


JUXIAN. 


extreme astonishment, and not less all who stood near ; 
for that John is a prophet sent of God, his followers do 
not doubt, but boast themselves continually of his au- 
thority, and do not scruple to say, as they believe, that 
he will in the event prove himself the Christ.” 

“ That we continually hear,” I said. 

“But what immediately happened,” resumed thy 
brother, “filled all who were present with greater won- 
der still. For they affirm that, when John’s unwilling- 
ness was overcome by the earnest request or command 
of Jesus, and they had gone into the river, and while the 
Baptist poured on the water of purification, a great light 
suddenly shone on all, beyond the brightness of the day, 
as if from the opened heavens, and at the same time a 
voice was heard, not as the voice of a man, declaring 
him the son of God. This heavenly sign was but for a 
moment, and was then withdrawn. The multitude were 
filled with both fear and amazement, and when it had 
passed, could hardly say whether what they had wit- 
nessed were a reality or a dream. But while they ques- 
tioned among themselves, Jesus disappeared from the 
midst of them, and has not since been found.” 

“This is wonderful, my father, indeed,” said Judith. 
“It surely seems as if God were now visiting us. The 
long silence seems broken. First John, and now' an- 
other. Surely, my father, you will give heed to this.” 

“ I have not denied, my child, to John the praise of a 
righteous man. I have denied him as the Christ only. 
He is truly a man of God. What hath now happened 
in Bethabara, fills me, Judith, not less than thyself, with 
astonishment, and with hope also. Doubt not that I 
shall wait to know what this vision may mean. My 


JULIAN. 


53 


trust is even in God, that he will yet appear for his 
people, and how he shall appear, by what signs and by 
what mediator, whether angel or man, our ignorance 
cannot say. Whoever shall come with the authority of 
God, him will I receive. Jesus may be he.” 

As Onias said these things there was the sound of ap- 
proaching steps and voices, and in a moment Shammai, 
Zadok, with others of the synagogue, joined us. They 
were rejoiced to find Onias at home. 

“ Now,” said Shammai, “ let us know the truth, for 
thou hast been in Bethabara, and, as we hear in Beth- 
Harem, wast present at the baptism. We have come 
for this end, to hear thy report and bear it back to the 
city.” 

They were sorry, and greatly surprised to learn that 
Onias had not himself been present. 

“ Thus it is,” said Zadok, “ we know not what nor 
whom to believe. So of the appearance itself, may we 
Well doubt if aught were seen beyond the light of a hot 
sun passing out from behind a cloud, or heard, beyond 
the rushing of the wind among the trees. The story by 
this time at Jerusalem speaks, I will warrant, of the 
Heavens being on fire, and of legions of angels de- 
scending.” 

“ Nay, nay, Zadok,” said Onias, “ not so. Though I 
saw not myself, I know those of Bethabara, who were 
present and witnessed the appearance. It was as hath 
been reported to you, if an honest man is to be believed, 
(and not one only but very many,) who relates what he 
saw with his own eyes and heard with his own ears. 
They, indeed, who stood remote on the banks, and were 
not among such as knew what was taking place, but 
5 * 


54 


JULIAN. 

were attentive to other things, said that they heard only 
a noise as of thunder, and saw only a light as of the 
lightning. But they only are to be credited who 
stood by.” 

“ But what,” said Zadok, “ hath become of the new* 
prophet?” 

“While the people,” replied Onias, “were talking 
with each other, overwhelmed with astonishment and 
fear, he was seen to depart by many who were near him 
towards the mountains, none hindering or following, or 
so much as asking whither he would go.” 

“Well,” said Shammai, “these are strange things. 
But what is strange oft vanishes when more is heard and 
known.” 

“And sometimes grows,” said Judith, “to what is 
stranger still.” 

“Yes, daughter,” he replied, “you say true; so that 
patient waiting for the full event is the part of the wise. 
But,” continued the Ruler, turning to Onias, “ whence 
came this Jesus? — you have told us whither he is gone, 
— for in Beth-Harem some say one thing, and some an- 
other. One affirms he is from Judea near Hebron, be- 
cause he is a kinsman of John; others that he is from 
Bethlehem, — and others from Galilee.” 

“The last are right,” answered Onias, “he is of 
Galilee.” 

“ He were better from some other part of the land,” 
said Shammai, “ for his own sake.” 

“ He is not only from Galilee,” continued Onias, “ but 
from Nazareth in Galilee.” 

“Ha, ha,” laughed Zadok, “prosperity await him! 
A prophet from Nazareth ! when a just man shall be 


JULIAN. 


55 

found among the Sadducees, a holy man among the Es- 
senes, or an honest man among the publicans, then may 
a prophet come from among the Nazarenes. They are 
truly the progeny of swine.” 

“ It will at least,” said Shammai, “ take more than a 
day to win hearers and believers.” 

“ That may be,” said Judith ; “ yet if he should per- 
chance overcome such prejudgments, it would then be so 
much the more in his favor.” 

“ Perchance ! perchance !” cried Zadok, “ that was a 
good word, maiden, to put in. There is little danger of 
such victory.” 

“Well,” said Judith, “with Shammai we will wait 
and see.” 

“ Yes, child,” answered Zadok, “ we will wait, and 
wait we shall, till Jordan runs backwards to his springs, 
ere we shall see a prophet come out of Galilee.” 

“Do not some affirm,” said Judith, “that he is of 
Bethlehem 1 Perchance, Zadok, he may yet be found 
to be of Judea.” 

“ Yea, daughter, perchance.” 

“The rumor concerning the origin at Bethlehem 
comes,” said Onias, “ doubtless from this, that he was 
born there at what time his parents were gone up to the 
enrolment in the days of Quirinius; for this Jesus, — 
unless indeed all be false, — is he who was hailed King 
of the Jews by the Magians of Arabia, in the reign of 
Herod the Great ; of whose strange birth all Israel heard, 
but afterward heard no more.” 

“ We all remember the tale,” said Shammai, “ to have 
been told to us, and some of us, Zadok, can remember 
through our own hearing.” 


JULIAN. 


5G 


“I number, Shammai, but forty years, and know 
nothing thereof.” 

“ But where,” asked Shammai, “ has this youth con- 
cealed himself during the years since the time of his 
birth?” 

iS As I learned at Bethabara,” Onias replied, “ he hath 
dwelt in Nazareth, save that at the feasts he hath ever 
gone up to Jerusalem, carefully observing the Law. 
But this is affirmed also, that he is of the family and 
lineage of David.” 

“ That,” said Shammai, “ will place him above John in 
his hopes of a ready reception, for J ohn could not claim 
as much. Yet we hear that the disciples of John contend, 
that the voice pointed to their master as the Son of God, 
rather than Jesus ; the name of neither having been pro- 
nounced.” 

“ So,” replied Onias, “ it happened ; for although John 
said at the first of himself, that he was but the herald of 
one greater, and so declares to this day, his followers 
scruple not to believe and declare that he himself is that 
greater. And this notwithstanding also the plainness 
with which the Baptist hath announced Jesus as a Pro- 
phet above all, even he who should come.” 

Said Zadok, “Verily Onias, thy words seem as of one 
who is ready to believe these things himself. Hast thou 
too been baptized in Jordan?” 

“Jest not, Zadok,” replied thy brother, “ with things 
that may be of God. The times are full of dread. I am, 
as thou well knowest, as you all know, firmly bound to 
Herod ; but Ilerod is not God, nor hath God spoken as 
yet by him. Wherever and whenever I shall hear, or be- 
lieve I hear the voice of God, and behold the signs that 


J UtlAN. 


57 


shall show his presence and power, there shall I be to listen 
and obey. ]n John I have beheld them not, yet is he a 
man of God. He is not the hope of Israel, though the 
spirit of God may rest upon him. But what can we yet 
say of Jesus? If the eyes and cars of men have not 
been blinded or deceived by the powers of darkness, then 
hath the God of our nation spoken. The multitudes of 
Bethabara doubt not that he has. The heavenly signs 
were not to be mistaken, they affirm. Yet, as I judge, 
we know not enough in this either to affirm or deny. 
The power of invisible spirits, and of the angels who fell 
we know not. It may be a delusion of Satan. Let us wait 
to see more. We must know him and hear him. It 
must reasonably give pause to us and to all, that Jesus 
has already withdrawn from sight, plunging immediately 
into the secret places of the mountain deserts. But, 
Zadok, while it may be that God hath indeed descended 
among us, and has at length revisited his people by the 
prophet whom long since he promised, it becometh 
all his children to bow in reverence and wait his will.” 

Zadok, far from being moved by what Onias had said 
with his air of deep sincerity, Was evidently laboring, 
while he spoke, to suppress his scorn and contempt. Ilis 
eye, the while, was fired with the inward passion, and 
his lip curled with derision. He was about to speak, but 
Shammai interposed / 

“ Onias, Zadok, is right ; and such should be our teach, 
ing at the synagogue. The prophets have foreshown, 
that Messiah shall in these days reveal himself, but they 
have not said with what form he shall come, with what 
signs he shall be announced, nor how attended. The 
thoughts and ways of Jehovah are not as ours. When 


58 


JULIAN. 


he appeared of old to his servant, he was not in the fire, 
nor in the whirlwind, but in the small voice. So if we 
would be prudent shall we say it may be now. The 
people look for one coining in the pomp and circum- 
stance of a Prince, so that every eye shall confess him as 
there, or there, or here ; but perchance they may mis- 
judge the trappings of a true Prince. A Prince and 
King he certainly will be ; he who is to come is truly to 
be the deliverer of Israel ; but where shall be the hiding 
of his power, and what the instruments he shall use, and 
what the raiment he shall wear, and the ensigns of his 
dignity, who may dare to say ?” 

“ The Ruler hath spoken what is right,” cried many 
voices of those who were crowded around, intently listen- 
ing. “Let us wait and see,” exclaimed others. “If 
Jesus is the Son of David, we shall soon behold him on 
his throne ; that will show him.” 

“ And if he is Beelzebub’s minister, as he seemeth, by 
this seeking the desert places, we shall see him no more ; 
he hath already gone back to his master ;” cried Zadok’s 
shrieking voice. 

With these words and other discourse which followed, 
Shammai, Zadok, and those who had accompanied them, 
took leave and departed from the city. 

Thus, my mother, are we, as I have said, already ar- 
rested in our affairs. As the thoughts of all are swal- 
lowed up by the strangeness of these events, and are not 
to be diverted from them, we are compelled to give way 
and remain inactive — so far are we determined in our 
course by the events and circumstances themselves. 
Obeying, therefore, the counsel of Onias, and the neces- 


JULIAN. • 


60 


sity of things also, I went not to Tiberias, but despatched 
Ziba instead bearing letters to Herod. 

I send this, my mother, at the moment I have written 
it, that you may receive early knowledge of the wonder* 
ful things that have happened 


60 


JULIAN. 


XVI. 


Tiie day following that on which I last wrote. I sought 
the streets of Beth-IIarem, both that I might learn what 
more there was to be known concerning Jesus, and that 
I might visit again the leper and his daughter, whom 1 
had seen before my journey to Maehaerus, but whom 
since that period I had committed to the care of Judith. 
Of their welfare she has often assured me ; for though 
she herself, partaking of the common feelings of the dis- 
ease, has seen them but once, yet has she bestowed 
upon them many gifts and kindnesses through her ser- 
vants. 

It was not difficult to perceive on the way to the city, 
but especially in the streets whichever way one turned, 
that some events had occurred, by which the minds of 
the people were much disturbed. They were every- 
where gathered together conversing with earnestness, 
and either inquiring for news or imparting it. At the 
market place I found not only those, who arc accustomed 
to pass there the greater portion of the time, which they 
know not otherwise how to rid themselves of, but many 
others of the chief persons of the city and neighboring 
country. John and Jesus were the names upon the lips 
of all. I approached one who sold fruits, with whom 
several were conversing. As I tasted his grapes, some 
of which I desired to purchase for the leper and his 


JULIAIT. 


Cl 


daughter, and listened to those who were talking, the 
countryman addressed me, saying, “ What think you, 
Sir ; shall we hear anything more of this Jesus of Beth- 
abara ?” 

I said that I could have no opinion worth repeating, as 
I had heard so little; nor indeed could any, as so little 
had been seen or was known of him. 

“ Not much, in truth,” he replied, “ is known of Jesus ; 
but of John much is known, and he has borne his testi- 
mony to Jesus; and if any one should be believed, 
surely it is John, whom all who know’, know to be 
honest.” 

I said I had never heard John nor seen him; but the 
reports, that had been brought to me, were in his favor. 
But how should he know anything of Jesus? 

“ How,” said one who stood by, “ should a prophet 
know’ anything, but by the power of God?” 

“ But how*,” I asked, willing to know their opinion, 
“ do men know John to be a prophet, he has w’rought no 
miracle that I have heard ?” 

“ That is very true,” replied the countryman, “ but 
did he not constantly prophecy of the coming of one 
after him, whom the people knew nothing of, but who 
would one day reveal himself; and has he not now 
come? He is surely shown to be a prophet, for his 
prophecy has come to pass.” 

“ Jf, as you judge, he prophecied the coming of the 
Messiah,” I replied, “ is it not too early to say that the 
prophecy is fulfilled? since we know not as yet, that 
Jesus is he, and surely the manner of his appearing 
makes not much for him.” 

“ 1 do not know,” replied the other, “ why we should 

Vo l. II.— 6 


JULIAN. 


t >‘2 

look for everything at once. He indeed appeals as 
other men, so we are told, but what say you to the voice, 
and the heavens opened ? Are not these somewhat ?” 

“ If those things,” I answered, “ indeed happened as 
has been related, they do truly declare that God is with 
.Jesus or John, whichever was pointed out by the voice, 
but surely' they make neither to be the Messiah.” 

“ That, indeed, is true as you say,” rejoined the other, 
“ but then to one who is ready to believe, it makes it so 
likely, that it seems to be almost or quite enough of 
itself.” 

“ Ah ! you foolish people,” cried Zadok’s voice from 
behind me, “ stand ready to believe everything. If one 
were to hearken to you, Christ comes every day. For 
no sooner doth a man look or speak differently from 
others, than behold you cry out, Here is Christ ! Verily 
ye will yet be the cause, that the Romans will suck us 
dry as the Jordan in the month Ab, and grind us to 
powder, fine as dust of Arabia. It is a pity that for the 
sake of Judea your mouth could not be stopped and 
your hands tied.” 

“ That they would be I am sure,” rejoined the other 
nothing daunted, w if you scribes had the power you 
wish you had. But happily you have it not. Had you 
dared, John had long ago been put out of the way ; but 
while the people are for him, it is more than you dare 
attempt, even with Herod on your side.” 

“ Whether we dare or not,” cried Zadok, already in- 
flamed with passion, “you shall see betimes. John’s 
days, mark me, my young rustic, John’s days are 
already numbered ! and so would I say are those of 
Jesus, but that he has already betaken himself back 


03 


JULIAN. 

again to his master. What can you look for from such 
as these 1 Idiots, fools, asses, that ye all are.” And he 
turned aw ay in a rage. 

“ There’s a Pharisee, for you ! There’s a ruler of a 
synagogue ! — there’s a man of the Law for you,” cried the 
countryman. “It is much more likely such as he, thick 
enough here, hut thicker yet as we hear in Jerusalem, 
will themselves bring the country to nought. If Christ 
came in the very form of God, would they not believe 
him, if in their conceit he ought not so to have come. 
Though the heart w'ere soft as a ripe fig, it w r ere better 
than to be as hard as a mill-stone. — These, Sir, not those, 
are my best grapes. Try these. — But we spoke just 
now of John. I have seen him and heard him many a 
time in the villages just above here, and to see him and 
to hear him is to believe him trustworthy. The marks 
of honesty are in his face and voice.” 

“ But,” said I, “ so strange is his appearance, that 
many scruple not to say that he is possessed.” 

“ It is said,” rejoined the other, “ by those who wdsh 
him ill. lie is but like other country folks — save in his 
wisdom w'hich is that of a Prophet. They will say some 
just such thing of Jesus, I warrant you, should he prove 
what we hope. But they will truly both fare ill, if Za- 
dok and such as he become inflamed against them. They 
say already, that he has done much to set Ilerod against 
John, reporting carefully whatever he says against either 
him, or Ilerodias. But the counsels of such a man can 
not prevail. God will confound them.” 

“All the Pharisees,” I said, “ are not like Zadok.” 

“ Most are,” interrupted the other. 

“ It may be so,” I answered, “ for I am but lately come 


64 JULIA Iff. 

into Judea, but all arc not like him. Onias, whom 
doubtless thou knowest, is willing to wait and see. 
Shammai” — 

“ Shammai,” responded the other, “ is a Sadducee.” 

“I do not think so*” 1 answered, “ though many so re- 
port him.” 

“ It matters little what he is,” replied the seller of 
fruit, “whether Sadducee or Pharisee, he is something 
better than either, a good and. a just and a kind-hearted 
man. He would let every man have his way, provided 
he -would injure no one. But for these others, if you so 
much as choke a little at swallowing down whole all 
they swallow with throats they have spent their lives in 
stretching, you are out of the synagogue, or up before 
the council ere your eye can wink. 1 ’ 

I would willingly have talked longer with this man, 
but that purchasers, happily for him, thickened about 
him, so that I was compelled to turn away. In all parts 
of the Market Place and in the neighborhood of the 
synagogue from which those were just coming, who — as 
with us — had been present at the morning prayers, I 
found the same topics in the mouths of all. None, so 
far as I could learn, save a few violent as Zadok, were 
disposed to deny the reality of the voice and the heavenly 
light at the Baptism of Jesus; and few, putting together 
with that, what was now generally received, that Jesus 
is the same whose birth was marked by the like prodi- 
gies many years ago, hesitate to believe that he is indeed 
the promised and expected Deliverer. Many are so 
wrought upon, that language does not suffice to convey 
their confident belief, but they give expression to it by 
loud and passionate cries, by gestures, and by a counte- 


JULIAN. 


fl 5 

nance which in every feature utters the sentiments of the 
heart. The children in the. streets have also caught the 
joy from the elders, and cry out in their shrill voices, 
” Christ is come ! Christ js come !” II is concealment 
since the baptism they explain some one way and some 
another, but it hinders not the current of their joy. 
They doubt not he will soon reappear and show himself 
more fully. The news having been carried already not 
only into all the country round about Bethabara and the 
Jordan, but even to Jerusalem, great numbers have 
flocked together to learn the tidings in the very neigh- 
borhood of the places, that have become so signalized, 
or at least where, as in Beth-IJarem, many may be met, 
who have seen or conversed at least with some who were 
present at the baptism, and witnessed the wonder. 
Every eye seemed to glisten with joy, every mouth was 
full and overflowing with words of congratulation and 
hope. “ Christ is come ! Christ is come !” fell upon the 
ear at every turn. 

As I parted from these crowds and was passing by the 
great gates of the citadel, I encountered Saturninus. 
Saluting each other, at his invitation I entered his quar- 
ters. As the gates unfolded and I passed beneath the 
arched way, leading to the inner square, the clash of 
arms fell upon my ear, and the voices of those who isr 
sued commands. 

“ It is but the soldiers at their exercise,” said the Cen- 
turion, “ a sight and sounds that must be familiar to you 
as a Roman.” 

I said that “often, even from my youth, had I taken 
delight in witnessing at the Praetorian Camp the exer- 
cises of the soldiers, and then used to lament that nature 
6* e 


GO 


JULIAN - , 


had made me not a Roman but a Jew, whereby I was 
shut out from what seemed to me the chief avenue to 
glory.” 

“Thy birth did not hinder thee from serving,” said 
Saturninus. “ The camp opens its arms to all who will 
swear fealty to Rome.” 

“ That,” I answered, “ neither my mother — nor in 
truth, my father, would suffer me to do; and when 
early youth was passed — that, I would not do myself. 
I loved Rome and Roman ways, but still I remembered 
I was a Jew. Now I think every way differently. — 
But for thyself, Saturninus, having so many times 
rioted in the field of battle, this must be a wearisome 
task, set here in the heart of Asia to watch mutinous 
Jews. Time must move with leaden wings.” 

“Many things prevent that,” he replied. “I no 
longer love war for its own sake, as I am obliged to say 
I once did. 1 willingly greet the quietness and repose 
I find here. And to speak the honest truth I love your 
people. Of late years I have studied philosophy more 
than the science and art of war ; I oftener when liberty 
is mine take up a book than the sword ; I converse with 
those who give proof that they have souls and desires, 
rather than with those who only seem as if they were a 
clod of earth, a little more animated than what lies 
wholly dead, and the ploughshare turns over. I find 
among this people curious subjects of inquiry, singular 
specimens of our race, and a love of thoughts which go 
beyond the confines of the senses, higher or deeper, than 
among any other I have known. Especially have I 
been instructed by reading your sacred books, where I 
have found a religion worthy altogether, or almost, of 


JULIAN’. 


07 


both the great God and of man his creature. So that 
with such tastes, and inclinations, Julian, thou scest I 
am not likely to pass the time heavily. Besides these 
things I need not to thee speak of the house of Onias.” 

“Thou needest not. The sun ever shines in the 
dwelling of Onias. And to dwell in sunlight is all we 
can ask. — But say, how long doth Pilate continue your 
guard in Bcth-IIarem 1 Is he still apprehensive that 
the Jew Julian will raise new disturbances V r 

Saturninus laughed. “ It is little, I believe, that he 
fears,” said he, “ either from thee or Onias. But I 
need not, or ought not to say, why he occupies Beth- 
Harem.” 

“ Let me,” I said, “ draw no secret from an enemy.” 

“Whatever brought me here, however,” resumed the 
Centurion, “ there seems of late to be growing up rea- 
sons enough for my remaining ; and so, I suppose, must 
I report to Pilate.” 

“ And what are these new reasons V 1 I asked, “ if they 
be not also of a secret nature.” 

“ Oh, no he answered, “ these I may communicate. 
They have existed but for a few days. — It seems from 
all I can learn that some long-expected person, whom 
they call Christ, has made his appearance on the Jor- 
dan, from whom great actions are looked for, such as 
the rescue of Judea from Rome, and the like. So I 
hear at least on every side. Ominous and threatening 
words are thrown out as I pass along, or as the people 
look on the soldiers at their exercises. The young 
urchins, who are thickest about our tents, have caught 
the song and cry out, 4 Take care, Romans, Christ is 
come.’ ‘ Now for Israel, down with the Romans.* 


08 


ITJLIAW. 


What the true sense is I know not. I take no other 
note of it than to hear the words, and ponder them.” 

I only said in reply, that 1 knew well whereof he 
spoke, but that truth in the matter was difficult of access 
on account of the contradictory nature of the rumors 
which were abroad, as well as many groundless super- 
stitions cherished by the lower orders of the people. 

Saturninus now led me from where we had sat into 
the midst of the soldiers whom 1 beheld, some shooting 
with the arrow at a mark, others throwing the lance, 
others attacking and defending with shield and sword, 
and others exercising with the gloves of the gladiator, 
so bringing into the most complete and violent action 
every part of the body. When 1 had sufficiently sur- 
veyed these, and had enjoyed further conversation with 
the Centurion, I left the citadel, and bent my steps 
toward the dwelling of the leper. 

1 soon reached the place, which seemed to me even 
more desolate and wretched than when 1 first saw it. 
It had the appearance of the ruins of extensive prisons, 
which had been destroyed by assault or by fire ; the re- 
mains of which were permitted to stand as they had 
been left by the fiery element or by war, serving as a 
shelter for domestic animals of every kind, from the oc- 
casional violence of the weather, and in its better apart- 
ments, as a home for some poor outcasts, such as the 
leper and his daughter. As I stood at the entrance a 
moment, considering the hard fate. of those who were 
compelled to seek the protection of so gloomy and com- 
fortless a dwelling, one joined me, who seemed from 
his wretched garments and neglected aspect, as if he too 
was of its inhabitants. lie bore the marks of extremo 


JULIAN 


00 

poverty, but not of* the misery that commonly accom- 
panies it; nor was he afflicted by disease, unless that 
may be called disease which follows the use of such 
drinks as cause drunkenness, and leaves its marks in the 
eye, and on the skin. But save this he was of a cheer- 
ful look, and seemed from his gait and manner as if he 
were rather a prince, or a princely merchant, than a 
beggar. lie saluted me with great courtesy, and asked 
to join my company. “Observing,” he said, “that I 
was a stranger to this part of Beth-Harem, he would 
give me such information as I appeared to be ignorant 
of concerning the ruins.” 

I said that I was truly a stranger and should value 
all he could tell me. 

He then went on to relate the fortunes of the build- 
ing from its origin, down to the wars of Antiochus and 
the Maccabees, when it was destroyed by the soldiers 
of the king, and from that time had been suffered to 
stand as we now beheld it ; and so strongly had it been 
built at first, that the elements passed over it without 
removing so much as a stone. “It now,” he ended 
with saying, “has become the happy residence of some 
such as himself raised by fortune above the wants of 
life.” 

I said that "on the contrary he seemed to me to be a 
person subject to some of its sharpest wants. 

“The eye,” said he, “is a great deceiver; it sees not 
far. There are those who seem as Princes in Beth- 
Ilarem, who are nevertheless slaves ; and those who 
shine in gold who are beggars, while I am free of all 
men, and have, seeming to possess nothing, more than 1 
can use. Having no possessions, and few wants or 


TO 


JULIAN. 


none, I have no cares. The day is mine from the first 
hour to the last, to pass it as I may, not fearing the de 
mand of any upon either my time or my labor. In 
truth I know not labor, and of time I take no account, 
but as it brings about the seasons of eating, drinking, 
and sleeping. Who then in Beth-Harem so happy as 
il l have but to speak a word, and my wants, such as 
they are, are supplied. God watcheth over the earth, 
and the people of Beth-Harem over me.” 

“Yet your dwelling is miserable,” said I, “and your 
garments are but filthy rags; a little labor would pro* 
vide better things than these.” 

•‘My garments,” he replied, “are indeed but rags; 
but then they cover me, and they cost me no care. 
Why should I be anxious for morel And for my 
dwelling, come and see it.” 

I said that 1 would trust to his word. I had come to 
see the leper and his daughter. I would now enter and 
seek for them. 

“Ah,” said he, “you speak of the merchant of Tyre; 
he is not now in his apartment. He is abroad enjoy ing 
the city. He will return at the sixth hour. Meanwhile 
come and see how the better sort of the inhabitants of 
Beih-Harem dwell.” 

So saying he led the way into the buildings, I follow- 
ing. lie passed through dark and ruined arches, and 
desolate sind uninhabited apartments, out of which, as 
their den, half-famished dogs fled howling at our ap- 
proach. Into these arched ways and rooms light some- 
times came through the broken roof, or narrow chink? 
In the walls defended and half obscured by bars of iron. 


JULIAN. 


71 


We soon stopped at the door of a room, like others we 
had passed through, and then entered. 

“ This,” said my guide, “ is my home. This straw is 
my bed, and, as you see, it is all I have. I need no 
more. The High-Priest at Jerusalem tastes not such 
sleep as I. The world is troubled about Pilate and He- 
rod, Jesus and John ; but it all passes by me as the air 
which I cannot hear or see.” 

As he spoke, I heard not far from us the clank of 
chains, and the voice, low and wailing, as of one who 
sang, or wept and complained. I asked its meaning. 
He said it is one who is beside himself, and held in 
bondage for both his own and others’ safety. “ Let us 
go to him. Devils possess him wholly.” 

We went in the direction of the sound. 

We found the room of the possessed person much like 
the others I had seen, of solid stone, dropping with 
moisture. A little light streamed in from a small open- 
ing, and fell upon the spot where he sat. It showed him 
to us bound hand and foot with strong chains to the 
wall against which he leaned. He was naked, but as if 
revisited suddenly by a dim recollection of former days, 
he drew together the straw' about him as he beheld us 
approaching, and held down his head. The long matted 
hair fell over it, and wholly concealed him from our view'. 
Presently he raised his head by stealth and gazed upon 
us, and then spoke in a low tone and as if afraid, saying, 
“ who are you and why do you come here V- 

“ That,” said my companion, “ was himself that spoke ; 
so his own voice ever is, low and sorrowful.” 

“ If you can help me,” said the possessed again, 14 help 
me now, quick, while the keepers are gone. They will 


72 


JULIAN. 


be- back anon, and then you can do nothing. Wonderful 
it is how you stand still, your hands playing with your 
robe, and help mo not! why do you who are a Jew 
Wear a Roman dress? but come, hasten and set me free. 
Do l not tell you my masters will soon be back — oh 
fools and satans they are coming — 1 hear them” — saying 
which he trembled and sunk his head again upon his 
bosom clasping over it his chained hands. 

In a moment more, and his hands fell from over his 
head, he looked fiercely up as if he had suddenly changed 
to another person, his voice became shrill and wild, as he 
laughed loud and said, 

“ Art thou Uzzi ? Canst thou do more than Pharez ? 
never believe it. Thou canst never drive us out. Hero 
we arc and here we mean to dwell ; it is a good dwell- 
ing and we will not leave it. Pharez has tried all his 
art, but thou seest we arc yet here — we are three, he is 
one. Our master too is on our side ; what canst thou 
do ? Let us alone and begone.” “ Nay, nay,” said he 
after a long pause, in his other voice, and as if afraid of 
being overheard, “ do not go, stay awhile, and they will 
all be gone, and then you can help me ; and for all you 
do for me I can enrich you more than your hearts can 
conceive, for, — I tell it to you as a secret — I know 
where all the treasures of Solomon are hid, and you shall 
share them. In truth,” he whispered, “ I am his son.” 

“ We cannot help you,” said my companion, “ neither 
can Pharez or Uzzi, but Christ you know is come, and it 
will be his business to overthrow the kingdom of devils ; 
lie will drive them out.” 

“ Christ ! Christ !” shrieked the possessed, “ he is not 
come; and if he were we fear him not. Our master is 


JULIAN. 73 

as strong as he. This body is our house, and neither 
John nor Jesus can shut us out. Here we reign and here 
shall do as we will” — “ Ah help me now,” cried the mis- 
erable man, in his low and alarmed tones, “ they are 
about to torment me. Now they thrust their flings into 
my vitals and tear them.” Saying this he cried out as 
if in torment, his body was convulsed throughout, and 
he fell down among his chains and straw as one dead. 

“ Now he is at his ease,” said my conductor, “ there- 
fore let us leave him. lie will lie so for many hours, 
as if he were indeed dead, save that his limbs confmue 
thus 'wrenched and awry, and that his mouth foams. 
But when he awakes he evermore avers that he hath 
only slept. So that we are much alike, he and 1. ITe 
cats, drinks, and sleeps, and so do 1. We differ but in 
this, that his food is brought to him, while I must needs 
seek mine over Beth-Uarem. We are alike in life; and 
death is the same to all. — Now 1 hear the merchant in 
his apartment. Let us seek him.” 

1 found the merchant, as my new companion chose to 
call him, in the same place as before, but made a greatly 
more comfortable residence by the kind offices of Judith. 
The leper and his daughter were rejoiced to see me again, 
and were loud in their expression of thanks for what 
through me had been bestowed upon them. 

“ My little Ruth,” said the leper, “ has not ceased to 
speak your praises and those of the good daughter of 
Onias. The poor child will never hear her own praises, 
1 fear, save from me alone.” Ruth seemed troubled that 
her father had spoken thus, and turned away her face. I 
said that, “ they who were conscious of doing what God 
enjoins can spare the praises of man.” 

Vol. II. — 7 


74 


JULIAN. 


The girl looked again towards me, and expressed 
pleasure in her beaming eyes. 

I then said to the leper that I had, on my late journey 
to Machrerus, seen those whom 1 supposed to be his 
brother and his family, and gave an account of what had 
happened. 

lie said, he supposed that I “ had indeed seen them, 
for the place agreed with what he had been told. But 
for him, alas ! but for him my Ruth would have been as 
a princess of Tyre. Who among her thousand mer- 
challts could count so many ships as 1 1 Who was so 
observed in the streets and in the market and in the syna- 
gogue 1 Whose wealth poured in in so many streams 
with channels so deep? All men honored me, and the 
foundations of my prosperity seemed deep as the roots 
of Lebanon. In one night it all vanished as a dream, 
and mV Ruth is all that is left ; yet she is worth more 
than all.” 

“ Speak not thus, my father,” said the girl, “ nor ever 
think of Tyre. God hath smitten us and afflicted us, 
but the smiling of prosperity might have been worse. 
David says that afflictions are good. This I know, that 
if it be to them that we owe our present peace, then are 
they not evil — not worst. If one might have prosperity 
and peace therewith, that indeed were better. But if 
they must needs be divided then to us has fallen the 
better part.” 

“ True, my child, and what we now have we cannot, 
as riches, lose, and so our happiness is secure.” 

“ The fear of God may depart from us,” said Ruth. 

“ Then, indeed,” said the parent, “ all were lost ! But 
it will not ; from thee it cannot depart, from me it shall 


JULIAN. 


3 


not. I may depart, but while I have my breath I w!.' 
fear God and serve him. Yet but for thee, my daughter 
1 would I were in Abraham’s bosom. Why do I live?' 

The girl wept. The father continued, 

“ Yet who would defend thee from the rude and the 
wicked, were I away ? I must not die, Ruth. It is hard 
cither way. I would die and I would not. I would live 
and I would not. While I talk thus, do I not seem to 
forget the providence of God? It matters not, it mat- 
ters not, my child, whether I live or die. God will shield 
thee. None call withstand him. Thou: wilt be safe put- 
ting thy trust in him.” 

The old man seemed to have forgotten that any one 
was present beside themselves ; while therefore the girl 
continued weeping, I said, that the providence of God 
was in truth always sufficient, and that they who put 
their trust in it would never be forsaken, they would 
have that peace which surpassed all other blessings. 
But his daughter should not want also for earthly friends. 
While I lived and the daughter of Onias, she should be 
cared for, and defended, nor should the shadow of an 
evil fall on her, which human force could turn aside. 

“Now the Lord bless thee,” cried the leper, “and 
give thee peace; it was but this I wanted. Now, O 
Lord, even now, would I be at rest. As thy righteous 
servant Job, by reason of his sore distresses desired 
death rather than life, so too does thy servant before 
thee; mine eyes are darkened, my skin is foul and hor- 
rid to the sight, my feet are eaten away ; and of him, who 
was once. as a shaft of polished marble, nothing now 
remaineth but a loathsome and dismembered trunk. 
When the morning comes, I say, would to God it were 


76 


J ULIAN. 


evening, and when it is evening, I say would to God it 
were morning. Day and night they arc both alike to 
me, and both are vanity. Why should I live ?” 

“ Do I love thee less, my father,” cried his daugh- 
ter, beautiful in her tears, “ that thy skin is rough and 
thy eyes and feet are gone ? It is thee I love, not thy 
limbs; and were it that thy prayer were answered, 
where should I go, and whom on earth should I love ? 
I know, alas, thy memory goes back to other and better 
days ; but I have known thee only as now, and only 
thee. Pray not for death, or, else that I may die with 
thee.” 

Again the young girl was overcome by her grief. 

My companion, who had hitherto remained silent, now 
spoke. 

“ Lose not thy courage, my old neighbor,” said he ; 
44 thy lot is not dark as thou thinkest. I complain not 
of life, nor of death, of God, nor of man. Yet how do 
we greatly differ? 1 have eyes, indeed, but I use them 
not. I have feet but they serve me not, save to move 
me hence to the market place and thence back again. I 
have a skin, not beautiful, not either indeed scaly with 
leprosy, yet it profits me not. Who loves me the better 
for the things in which I surpass thee ? Who loves Za- 
dok, the Pharisee, though of limbs and senses he want- 
cth not one? Would thy young daughter exchange 
thee for Zadok? What profit is there in that which 
profiteth not? Thy rest is better for thyself and the 
world than another man’s motion ; thy blindness than 
another man’s sight, thy ugliness than another's beauty, 
thy poverty than another’s wealth. Riches and beauty 
do but corrupt, and labor does but weary. I am happier 


JULIAK. 


77 


than any man in Beth-IIarem, save mayhap the wise 
Shammai. But thou shouldst be happy as I. Thy 
daughter should be to thee as a sun to warm thee, and a 
light shining deeper than thine eyes, even on thy 
heart.” 

With these words he waved his rags with a majestic 
movement, and looked toward me for applause with a 
countenance in which jest and seriousness seemed strange- 
ly contending. His speech brought a smile on the faces 
of the unhappy leper and his daughter, and though they 
might little agree with what he had said, it had the good 
effect of changing the current of their thoughts and light- 
ening their sorrow. 

“ Whatever thanks,” said the leper, “ we may owe to 
the people of Beth-IIarem, who remember the poor and 
feed them with bread, we owe none more than this our 
friend and neighbor, who many a time hath not only di- 
vided his loaf with us, but much more always cheers our 
sorrows by his merry voice, and by his sayings, which 
if they agree not always with Moses and the Prophets, 
show themselves true by causing the hearers either to 
laugh or weep. Had death” — 

“ Talk no longer,” cried the beggar, “ of dying. These 
are the days to live. Who knows upon whom the honors 
of the new kingdom may fall? Under King John or 
King Jesus, I may rise to power, and when I do, thou 
shalt. I will not forget old friends in my new glory.” 

Being interrupted here by a wild and piercing shriek 
from the room of the possessed man, the beggar hastily 
withdrew, saying “ that he must look to the wants and 
welfare of his other neighbor, for that after his long sleep 
he needed both food and drink.” 

7 * 


78 


JULIAN. 


1 also took leave of the leper and his daughter, after 
having again given them every needed promise, that I 
would not forsake them, and that in Judith, Ruth should 
ever find one who would protect her. The old man, by 
such repeated assurances, was made to forget the evils 
of his lot in the benefits which he could still enumerate, 
and returned to that contentment of spirit, which his 
daughter assures me is the usual condition of his mind. 

Returning again through the midst of the city, I found 
the people still anxious and inquisitive as before concern- 
ing the reports from Bethabara. Nothing more, how- 
ever, could 1 learn in which trust could be placed, save 
that by those who this day had come from thence had 
been confirmed what was said at first by Onias, that 
Jesus had disappeared among the fastnesses of the wild- 
erness to the east of the Jordan, and had been seen by 
none since the baptism. 

When I again saw Judith, and had related to her my 
conversation with the inhabitants of the Old Prison, she 
said, that a dwelling which she had caused to be prepar- 
ed for the leper was now ready, to which he might soon 
be removed. Although the apartment they now occu- 
pied had been made more secure than before, against 
the elements, by the labors of those whom Judith had 
employed, and had become a more agreeable residence 
than any other part of the ruins, still I was glad to learn 
that another and better was procured, and no time was 
lost in removing them from the one to the other. The 
beggar I hoped would take possession of the room which 
the Tyrian merchant had abandoned, but he could not be 


JULIAN. 


79 


persuaded to do so much as only to change the direction 
of his steps to reach it. It were undergoing, he thought, 
needless labor. “Besides,” said he, “why should 1 
change that with which I am already satisfied, for 
another thing with which, truly, you and others may be 
better pleased, but which has no new charms for me. I 
have but three wants, food, drink, and a place where I 
may lie and sleep. Food is food, drink is drink, and 
sleep is sleep. I see not why I were better to take my 
lettuce and figs from a silver dish, my wine from a 
golden cup, my sleep on a silken couch — the nature of 
the fig, the wine, and of sleep is still the same. It. asks 
none of these additions for the poor man to receive both 
pleasure .and nutriment from his food and his repose. In 
this God is seen to be merciful and equal. Good wine 
tastes no better to Herod than to a beggar, and honey is 
not sweeter to Pilate than to me. The life here, more- 
over, being thus alike to each, dost thou judge that 
Herod will find more favor in the life to come than the 
Beggar of Beth-Harem'? Verily. I should stand forth 
boldly at his side ill the day of judgment, nay, betwixt 
him and Pilate, nor be afraid.” 

So that he cleaves to his straw, his wet and dripping 
walls, his wretched den, into which, through the cavities 
where doors and windows once were, dogs enter to sleep 
by his side, or to devour the food they have stolen, 
causing oftentimes the vacant halls and winding passages 
to resound with their frightful howlings as they pursue 
each other, and fight for the morsel which is to save those 
who conquer from death, or griping hunger. 

Judith now' often resorts to the dwelling of the leper, 
where she beholds its tenants enjoying greatly every 


60 


JULIAN. 


addition that has been made to their comfort. In Ruth 
she discovers one in whom a spirit dwells of so much 
native excellence, that none of the base conditions of 
extreme poverty and adversity have had power to bring 
any stain upon it. Her father’s judgment of her she 
finds to be true when he said, that she was too pure for 
the touch of leprosy to harm her. On such occasions l 
often accompany her, and beneath this roof of poverty 
have I passed many of the most agreeable hours, and 
most instructive also, since I have dwelt in these re- 
gions. For the leper, now that he is at rest, sitting 
beneath a roof which is secured to him, his daughter 
rescued from the dangers that had ever hitherto sur- 
rounded her, returns to the feelings and thoughts of his 
earlier life, and shows himself not only a devout lover 
of the Law and worshipper of God, but a man who has 
known much of the ways of the world, whose mind has 
drawn knowledge from many quarters, and in his ad- 
versities has possessed power to retain what he had 
gained, if not to increase its stores. His conversation 
is that of one both devout and wise, and his daughter, 
who possesses from nature larger and better gifts than 
the father, and has received in addition, all that he could 
teach, — for all his happiness these many years has come 
from the instruction, which by conversation he could 
thus impart — proves also a new source of pleasure, not 
to Judith only, but to Onias and myself also. Happier 
circumstances, the society of those who are her equals, 
comparative plenty, with friendship, have daily called 
out new expressions on her countenance, and shown 
new beauties and graces of mind and heart, by which 
we have beer, astonished and delighted. She lias al 


JULIAN. 


81 


ready become more necessary to our happiness :han we 
are to hers. 

Nothing in addition for many days has been heard of 
Jesus, and the people grow despondent. Many will not 
believe that anything like what has been asserted has 
happened. But while the eyes and ears of men are as 
they were made, and devils do not enter us to pervert 
what the senses would convey, then doubtless, they say, 
that took place which has been affirmed, whether or not 
Jesus is heard of again. Surely, never was there a 
time when a whole people were thus waiting to receive 
with acclamations of welcome a promised deliverer, 
which of itself seems to show, that if God be about to 
send forth a prophet, he will now appear, or having ap- 
peared he will return. All are ready to bear him up, 
and on, to every honor. Every heart is beating with 
hope, every hand waits but the word to grasp the sword 
or the spear. I cannot dpubt that whatsoever may be 
the reason of his tarrying, the delay will not be long. 
Peace be with thee. 


While Jesus, for reasons which then were not under- 
stood, but which have since been declared, thus with- 
drew’ himself from the scene wffiere he had first made 
himself knowm, and from the great length of the time, 
during which he remained hidden from the eyes and the 
knowledge of the people, it was believed by many that 
he would not return, Herod again deemed it a favorable 
time to continue the preparations he had made, and 
strengthen his cause among the people. No letters can 

F 


82 


JULIAN. 


I discover written during this period* but my recollec- 
tion of those days is distinct of much intercourse with 
Herod by letters, by messengers, and by visits at Ma- 
chserus. The Tetrarch was sure that no more would 
ever be heard of Jesus; and although he would not 
with clearness declare all that he had done, yet he 
darkly shadowed forth in obscure phrases, which lie 
loves to use, that an emissary from him had sought and 
found Jesus during his retreat into the wilderness, and 
had become convinced that he was not what he was at 
first believed to be, and that nothing need be feared or 
hoped from him. The proffer of honor, and wealth, and 
power, even to that of half the kingdom, nay, the su- 
preme power, which was freely made if he would join 
with Herod, — made in the belief that he was a prophet 
and endowed with powers more than human, — he would 
not accept ; and doubtless because he did not in truth 
possess such powers, for upon being earnestly pressed 
to give some proof thereof, he complied not, but stead- 
fastly refused. Had he in truth possessed them, Herod 
was sure that he would have given some token ; for no 
one who came to fill the office of Messiah would spurn 
the offers which he had made, since they were those of 
a strict alliance with him for a prosecution of the self- 
same ends and objects, which he as the deliverer must 
have had in view. 

These reasonings of Herod, however, especially taken 
together with the fact, that a messenger of his had 
found Jesus and conversed with him, only served to 
convince Onias and the rest of his firmest adherents, 
that it were wiser to delay the contemplated move- 
ments yet a little longer. His inquiries had settled 


S3 


j v i,u^k 

what before all were doubtful about, namely, that Jesus 
was still alive and not very remote. It was clear that 
none would consent to resume their undertaking until 
he had been again seen, and his character and purpose 
determined. 

The Tetrarch was irritated by such opposition. lie 
was confident in his own strength, and impatient of re- 
straint and delay. But by much persuasion he was 
made to renounce all farther purpose of action, till the 
minds of the people should be quieted by the confirma- 
tion or defeat of their hopes. 


XVII. 


At length, my mother, after long waiting, and when 
the people had nearly abandoned all hope of what they 
desired, Jesus hath again appeared, not as before on 
the Jordan, but far from us, in Galilee. At the same 
time that this news has been brought to our ears, we 
arc told also of astonishing miracles which he has 
wrought in the towns and villages of that quarter. 
IIow shall I describe the amazement and joy that till 
the minds of all ! Every day and every hour are re- 
ports brought to our ears of new wonders he has done, 
and every day and hour doth the joy of the people rise 
higher and higher. No one doubts now that God has 
indeed visited his people. Great numbers not patient 
enough to wait for the time when Jesus shall visit other 
parts of the country, and doubtless among others, the 
valley of the Jordan, have flocked to Galilee, that they 
may at once remove their doubts, or invigorate their 
faith by themselves seeing and hearing the new prophet. 
All Beth-IIarem is astir, and the synagogues, the streets, 
and house-tops resound with the praises of the worship- 
pers, giving thanks for the great redemption that has 
drawn nigh. All Jerusalem also, so we hear, not less 
than the parts about us is moved, and multitudes have 
already resorted to Capernaum, and the shores of the 
lake of Galilee. We remain, for many reasons, on 


JtM-lAH. 85 

the banks of the Jordan, — satisfied with the knowledge 
which we continually receive from such as are arriving 
and departing, and on whose truth and exactness we 
know that we can rely. 

All that has reached us of the character and conduct 
of this prophet shows that, in respect of wisdom and a 
holy life, he is well worthy to be a messenger of God. 
But what his purposes truly are, we cannot pretend as 
yet to determine. I say that we cannot. For ourselves, 
who have so espoused the cause of Herod, we cannot 
hastily nor without the strongest reasons abandon it for 
another. To him, who should appear and afford proof 
sufficient by the signs he gave that he was the Messiah 
of God, should we without hesitation or delay transfer 
ourselves. But no such signs have as yet been given. In 
the mean time we remain steadfast to him who seems 
well able to accomplish all the objects, or the greatest 
which are expected of that personage ; nor do we think 
it an event to be looked for from present appearances, 
that Jesus will show himself more than a prophet ; yet 
we cannot tell. Though we cannot quite share the ex- 
cessive transports of the people, we hold ourselves silent, 
and attentive to what shall come to pass. We are filled 
with amazement at what we hear, and pretend not to say 
what shall, or what shall not be the issue. As surely as 
the presence of God was manifested of old by Moses and 
Elijah, so surely is it now, by Jesus. Of this all see 
the evidence, Pharisee and Sadducee, Jew and Sam 
aritan. 

Judith is made happy beyond all others, as it seems 
to me, by this coming of Jesus, and by the things we 

Vol. II.— 8 


86 


JULIAN. 


every day hear concerning him and his teachings and his 
works. She will not doubt that he will prove all we can 
desire, and hardly can she be restrained from journeying 
to Galilee, that she may herself hear, see, and judge. 
But though she cannot see and listen for herself, she can 
scarce converstrof any other subject. 

“Ah, Julian,” said she, as We were lately seated on 
the house-top as the day was declining, “ how glad 1 am 
that anything has happened to separate you, even though 
but for a season, and in part from that bad man.” 

“ And whom do you mean, my cousin ?” said I. 

“Could I mean any one,” she replied, “besides 
Herod ?” 

“ He is not perfect,” said I, “ yet as God works his 
designs by storms, pestilence, and whirlwinds, so may 
he by demons and bad men.” 

“ I believe,” replied Judith, “ that he does indeed use 
men’s wickedness for some ends, so that even from this, 
the darkest evil, somewhat beneficial springs. But who 
can believe, that for his Messiah, promised so long, a 
man like Herod would be chosen 1” 

“ None of the wise men of Israel,” I answered, “ can 
tell me, nor have I been able from any quarter to learn 
with certainty what sort of a personage the looked-for 
Messiah is. to be. Some say he is to be a prophet, and 
some a king, and some both ; and besides these a priest. 
The only thing in which they agree is, that he is to be a 
conqueror, and deliver Israel from her slavery. I know 
not therefore what to make of him with exactness. But 
if the only belief in which they unite is any guide, then 
is there some good reason for thinking well of Herod, 
seeing that already he stands so that with but little doubt 


JULIAN 1 . 


87 


he may work out the deliverance of Judea. Though we 
should not judge him Messiah, why may we not judge 
of him as one who may avail, like the Maccabees, to savo 
our land from the spoiler?” 

“You do not then, Julian, believe Herod to be the 
Christ.” 

“ To confess the truth,” I replied, “ I do not. I believe 
he may do great good to Judea; that he stands with his 
harness on, ready, if the people will aid him, to accomplish 
the very work which by all is looked for from the 
Messiah ; but I do not believe lie is therefore that per- 
son. I will give him my service as a Jew, as I would 
enlist under a general in the Roman camp; but no 
more. 

“ 1 joy to find it is so,” said Judith ; “ I too may believe 
as much ; though to speak to you a truth, which were it 
spoken in Beth-Harem or Jerusalem would bring down 
heavy judgments, I verily think that under Rome we en- 
joy as much of both freedom and peace, as we should do 
under princes of our own— as we should were Herod 
king of Israel, instead of Tiberius and Pilate. Ah, I 
should tremble, were Herod king. I have seen him 
once, and once has he spoken to me. But I would not 
think of that. Others, however, though not your, 
self, believe him Messiah ! — a man spotted with many 
crimes, and who will be with many more ; a man both 
crafty and cruel — a fox and a tiger. I wonder at the 
delusion, and above all, that Onias should have bound 
himself by so many ties to him.” 

“ Onias,” I replied, “ like most of our people, is ruled 
by one idea, and one hope, the deliverance of Judea ; and 
after many disappointments, after waiting so long in vain 


88 


JtJMAS. 


for the coming of the prince who was to work out thft 
deliverance, and beholding no signs of his approach, not* 
withstanding that, according to the interpretation of our 
rabbis and priests, the time has more than arrived, when, 
if prophecy be more than a fable, he ought to arise, it 
surely is not surprising, that he should be willing to fall 
back upon Herod, in whom it must be confessed by - the. 
most hostile, there are centered many of the claims 
which would characterize the Messiah. For myself, 1 
marvel that greater numbers, ere this, have not sought 
to him as their only hope. Even the Ilerodians them- 
selves are many of them but lukewarm adherents, espe- 
cially those of Caesarea, who seem to be content with 
their present relations to him and his opinions and cus- 
toms, and doubt the wisdom of the attempt now in hand. 
In truth it was only among the smaller portion of them, 
that the Tetrarch, with all his secret endeavors, had suc- 
ceeded in planting the seeds of a firm faith in his preten- 
sions. But no other so sure hope can I discern in the 
wide future for Israel, as that which at this moment rests 
on Herod.” 

“ Can you,” asked Judith, “ see none in Jesus 1 Sure- 
ly the seal of Jehovah is upon him.” 

“ I know not at present,” I replied, “ what nor who 
he is, nor what he will prove. I have with sincerity 
sworn allegiance to Herod. I cannot at once, nor with- 
out better reasons than can as yet be given, transfer it 
to Jesus.” 

“But, Julian, can he whose baptism was marked by 
so great an event as the opened heavens, whose birth was 
announced by angels, and by whose pc wer miracles have 


JULIAF. 


89 


been wrought in Galilee, great as ever came from a pro 
phet’s hand, be other than lie for whom we look ?” 

Before I could answer Judith’s question, Onias, with 
Shammai, Zadok, and other of our friends from Beth- 
Ilarem joined us. 

“ Ah, my daughter,” said Shammai, as he placed him- 
self by the side of Judith, “ I am glad to see thee in these 
days of promise. Days, too, happily, that join in one 
those who differ. Even Zadok smiles now when I 
do.”— 

“ Not quite as often, I trust, Shammai,” he replied. 
“ Were it so, I should scarce think myself in my place, 
at the synagogue, remembering what Solomon saith of 
laughter.” 

“ Nay now, my brother,” replied Shammai, “ take me 
not up so sharply. I would only have said that at length 
Zadok and Shammai smiled at the same time and 
thing. I will grant that for once thou hast smiled, I 
have laughed an hundred times. But of what did you 
converse, daughter, with our young Roman as we came 
up !” 

“ Of what should it have been?” said Judith. “ We 
converse now but of one and the same theme.” 

“ Of Jesus you mean.” 

“ Yes, of Jesus.” 

“It is, indeed, the only theme as thou hast said,” re- 
plied Shammai. “ In the city it is so ; whether you meet 
in your walks those of one sect, employment, condition 
of life, or another, it is still the same words you hear 
from every mouth, and one hopeful eye you behold in 
every countenance. Even children and slaves have 
caught the general joy, and utter the name of the prophet 
8 * 


90 


JULIAN. 


as if it were a charm to keep- them from evil. And with 
reason.” 

“ They are a foolish people,” said Zadok, 44 and easily 
seduced as ever. I marvel, Shammai, that thou shouldst 
encourage them in their folly. They may soon have to 
sing another song.” 

44 Why thou thyself,” said the Ruler, 44 hast been little 
less stirred than I, by the news from Galilee. Why 
silence the song others would sing in their joy 

“ I rejoice,” replied the other, 44 as one whose joy may 
speedily be turned into mourning. It is not impossible 
that Jesus may be the Christ. But what can we say 
more ?”■ 

44 Surely,” replied Shammai, 44 it is not certain that he 
now is, or that he will be ; yet is there such a hope, as 
Israel was never before permitted to entertain, and in 
that hope let all be glad who will. Say you not so, my 
daughter ?” 

44 Indeed I do, Rabbi. I had just said to Julian as you 
ascended and joined us, that it was no small token to us, 
that this Jesus of Galilee is the fulfilment of our hope, in 
that his birth was so announced, that at his baptism the 
very heavens were opened, and the voice of Jehovah, or 
of his angel, was heard, and that he hath power to do the 
works which are filling the land with astonishment. Who 
else should he be ?” 

44 Could the voice of the whole land of Judea this 
moment be heard,” replied Shammai, 41 it would say 
with thee, lady, who else should he be 1 The people are 
waiting and ready to hail him king, prophet, deliverer. 
Leaving every other ruler, they would now at his word 
flock together, and under his supremacy lay the deep 


JULIAN. 


31 


foundations of that kingdom of God of which there shall 
be no end. Yet, Judith, are there some things that 
cause a doubt.” 

“ Yea, verily, that are there,” said Zadok. 

“ But still,” said Shammai, “ none to extinguish hope.” 

“ Wait for that,” said Zadok, “ until to-morrow,” 

“ I will wait longer,” said Shammai. 

“I am ready,” said Judith, “to believe even now; 
I see no room for doubt. The reports which have come 
to our ears are by the lips of those whom* we know ; 
why should I not believe ?” 

“ Believe what, my child ?” asked Shammai. 

Judith hesitated; but said, after a moment’s pause, 
“ believe in him, as one whom God has sent to instruct 
us, and why not also to save us from our enemies 1 Mes- 
siah we are taught will be a prophet and priest, as well 
as king.” 

“ Doubtless it is so,” said the Ruler. “ And it may not 
be denied that thus far Jesus has shown himself pos- 
sessed of the wisdom of a prophet, and of the holiness 
of a priest; but no signs has he given of the greatness 
of a prince.” 

“ Not,” asked Judith, “ in his miracles ? Who should 
do a miracle but one who comes from God 1 — And is not 
every greatness his ?” 

“ True, daughter, there are those who pretend to do 
wonders like these of Jesus, but a wise man receives 
them not. To God alone belongs such power. But 
surely it has been imparted to many who were not Mes- 
siah, and may be to many more. His works show God 
to be with this Jesus of Nazareth, but they show' him 
not to be the Christ.” 


92 


JULIAN. 


“ Spoken like the King of Wisdom himself,” said Z a- 
dok. “ Yet is there a remnant of folly to bo rebuked. 
Works great as these of Jesus can Pharez do, and many 
a Magian and Egyptian besides. Who knows not that 
these have power to foretell things to come, to expel de- 
mons, to call forth spirits from the air, the ocean, and 
the grave ? The sorceress of Endor has left those be- 
hind who can do her own deeds and more.” 

“ So/’ replied Shammai, 44 do the ignorant believe, 
but so do hot the w*ise. They are liars, deceivers, im- 
postors all ; and the people fools and blind, who put 
their trust in them. Who knows not how their tricks 
are done 1 even like unto those of her of Endor, — in the 
terrors of darkness and the night, in hollow caves of the 
earth, in tombs, and on blasted heaths, amidst sulphur- 
ous flames and burning pitch, the yells of tortured men 
and beasts, where no eye can see aright, nor ear hear, 
and the soul is dissolved in the terrors of the scene. 
What wonder if so the dead may be reported to have 
arisen, and spirits to have come forth at a word 1” 

“The works of Jesus,” said Judith, “are not like 
these.” 

“ Truly they are not,” said Shammai, “ but are done 
in the open light of day, and in the streets of our cities, 
in the midst of watching crowds, with some Zadok ever 
nigh at hand. They who are sick he restores ; they who 
are blind he causes to see ; those whose limbs are with- 
ered and dead he makes whole as before, who all live 
and are among us to bear testimony to what has been 
done, as well as others who stood by and were witnesses 
of such deeds. These wonders, therefore, who shall deny 
it 1 show him to be of God.” 


JULIAN. 


93 


“Yet show him not to be the Christ,” said Zadok, 
“ nor as I believe, and shall believe, not with certainty 
to be of God, but with much likelihood, of the devil.” 

“ Blaspheme not,” said Onias ; “ thou knowest not 
whereof thou affirmest. If ever the God of our nation 
has appeared for us, if he indeed thundered with his 
voice at Sinai, or gave his spirit to Moses and Elias, then 
has he given it also unto Jesus. He is a prophet mighty 
in his power, even like unto them. What he is more 
than this, we know not yet ; but we shall know soon. 
But we may hope that he shall prove a redeemer for 
Israel. And, saying this, I forget not Herod, nor our 
duty to him. I am his. But we know well that upon 
Herod rests no spirit like unto this that manifests itself 
in Jesus. He cannot in this be what Jesus is, while 
Jesus can be what Herod is, and more. It is no treason 
to say so. When and where God, the God of our 
Fathers reveals his hand and presence, there should his 
children, forsaking all others, cleave to him alone. 
Others are set aside. Let Jesus, therefore, declare him- 
self Messiah, and use his powers to achieve Messiah’s 
work, and we then muster under his banner, as under 
one whom God himself hath anointed. And to such 
an one do I believe would Herod himself show alle- 
giance.” 

“ I thank thee, my father, for these words,” said Ju- 
dith. “ Thou wilt wait then. I feared”— 

“ Fear nothing,” said Onias, “ least of all, that I shall 
in anything turn a deaf ear to the evident voice of Jeho- 
vah. I look to Jesus with hope, as doth every one in 
Israel whose heart is right before God, and I wait to see 
what a few more days or weeks shall bring forth.” 


94 


JULIAN. 


“ Yet the people do everywhere hold him,” said Ju 
dith, “to be not only a prophet, but the Christ also 
The voice of a people, is it not a voice of God ?” 

“The people,” replied Onias, “believe hastily and 
without reason, as their passions lead them. And then 
again ofttimes with as little reason deny and reject, 
what a moment before they believed, as new' passions 
dictate. No ; the voice of the wise man, if it may be 
affirmed of any, is rather the voice of God. Solomon, 
David, and the Prophets, rather than the multitudes of 
their day, spake with the warrant of Jehovah. When 
Jesus shall declare himself, and put forth his powers in 
the great work God shall have given him to do, will it 
be time enough to own him Christ. The people, in 
their shoutings and acclamations, in their ready faith 
and promises, are as the blind rushing toward the edge 
of a precipice, — they know not whither they go, and it 
may be toward their ruin — yet also it may be tow r ard 
their salvation.” 

“Yea,” said Zadok, “it is not more hours than one 
can easily reckon up, that this same people deemed 
John some great one, and now he is forsaken for Jesus. 
And to-morrow let a third arise, and Jesus will be for- 
saken in turn.” 

“ That,” said Onias, “ is true, Zadok. But in respect 
of what thou hast said of John, as I learn, his disciples 
abandon him not, but cleave to him, holding him great- 
er and better than Jesus.” 

“ I know' not how his followers judge either of him or 
Jesus,” replied the Pharisee, “ but the people, of whom 
we were speaking, while but now they thronged John 
wheresoever he moved, now speak the truth of him, 


JULIAN. 


95 


the truth at first, as well as the truth now, and say that 
he is as one beside himself, seeing that he dwells apart 
in the manner he does, feeds upon the wild fruits and 
berries of the wilderness, and for his clothing wears the 
garments of a beggar. Doubt not that presently they 
shall say yet worse things of Jesus ; nay, that they do 
already, marvelling if he can be a Son of God who eats 
and drinks as others do, consorts with publicans and 
sinners, and by the power of God makes wine of water, 
that he and others with him may drink at will.” 

“ Are such things reported ?” asked Judith. 

“ It must be said that they are,” replied Zadok, “ and 
already among those who follow him doth it beget 
shrewd suspicions of whence he comes, and of the true 
spirit that inspireth him.” 

“ Oh, say not so, Rabbi,” cried J udith ; “ say not so. 
All that has thus far come to our ears speaks of him as 
gentle and holy. This is but the jealousy of a Hero- 
dian — admit it Zadok.” 

“ As a follower of Herod,” replied Zadok, “ I profess 
not to love either him or John ; that thou knowest, 
daughter. But in respect of what I have just said, I 
utter it not of my own knowledge, but speak only the 
common rumor.” 

“ Common rumor,” I said, “ changes its hue and qual- 
ity, however, even as water, according to the nature of 
that through which it passes. Thou wouldst not take 
as justly exact a rumor concerning John from the lips 
of Herod, nor can we any more one from Zadok con- 
cerning Jesus.” 

“ We shall see,” replied the Priest, “ time will show , 
only, as I think, there will be found to be even less of 


9G 


JULIAN. 


Christ in Jesus than in John; but m neither, what 
should throw a stumbling block so big as a midge’s 
wing in the way of Antipas.” 

“ Let us not,” said Onias, “ be over-confident, nor 
judge beforehand. Who would willingly be found to 
fight against God ?” 

“ As to what is said of the life and manner of the 
Prophet,” said Shammai, “ it surely matters little one 
way or another. If the Messiah drink wine, it would 
make it hard for one to say, why that should hurt him 
in the eye of the nation, and if he keep company with 
publicans and those who are little better, it were not 
easy to see how he should consort with many and not 
do so. A holy Jew must be sought for narrowly to be 
found. He who is to be gathering armies and laying 
the foundation of a new kingdom, will hardly employ 
himself in choosing nicely his company. As thou say- 
est, Onias, let us not judge beforehand, nor make moun- 
tains of ant-hills. Let us not pry into his secret life 
searching for rents, and spots of uncleanness. It mat- 
ters not. It matters not. To be a busybody is worse 
than to be a sinner, and to judge bitterly worse than to 
be, or be called, a child of the devil.” 

So we conversed until the hour of retiring, when our 
visitors took their leave and returned to Beth-Harem. 

When they were gone, Onias, as is his wont, called 
together his household for the evening prayer. Morn- 
ing and evening he worships God surrounded by all 
who dwell beneath his roof, pouring forth the wants and 
desires of his heart concerning his own, and concerning 
Israel. This night, standing on the house-top in the 
midst of his large family, the air being calm, the stars 


JULIAN. 


97 


shining bright in the firmament, and no sound heard 
but the low music of innumerable insects, and the dis- 
tant murmuring of the J ordan, he prayed with an ear- 
nestness more than common. His voice, not loud but 
deep, and bearing upwards not only so many words, 
but the very soul of him who spake them, fell upon the 
ear, as the voice of one more than man. When he had 
prayed for his own. and for thee, my mother, and for all 
in any sort bound to him, and for other things, with 
somewhat of that repetition to be noted in the devotions 
of all of this sect, he then prayed for Judea, for her 
peace, prosperity, and deliverance ; “ Make haste to 
help us, O Lord, make haste to appear for us, and with 
thy strong arm to cause us to stand, for we are now 
fallen to the ground and buried in the dust of the earth, 
and sunk into the deep mire, and overwhelmed beneath 
mighty waters, so that w T e are of no account in the sight 
of men, verily they hoot at us, shooting out the lip and 
laughing us to scorn as they pass by, saying, where is 
thy helper, Israel, and thy gods, O Jacob ? And truly, 
O Lord, it is not as it was wrnnt to be of old with thy 
people, when thy servant David sat on thy glorious 
throne, and the inhabitants of the earth trembled and 
fled from before him astonished. Then w r as thy people 
as the chosen of the Lord. Then each sat beneath his 
own vine and figtree, and the gentile who is accursed 
forever, licked the dust at our feet. But now we are 
had in derision; our enemies have risen up against us, 
and hold us in bondage, the yoke is upon our neck, our 
feet are in the stocks, our wine and oil, the fruit of the 
field, and the cattle upon a thousand hills, they are not 
for us, but the oppressor devoureth them before our 
Vol. II. — 9 a 


93 


JULIAN. 


eyes, and for our wives and our little ones, their skin 
eleaveth to their bones, and their substance is carried 
away, and the stranger and alien hath gotten possession 
thereof. By reason of these things, O Lord, thy people 
are full of sighings and tears ; we sit beneath the wil- 
lows whereon we have hung our harps of pleasant 
sound, and bewail and lament. How long, O Lord ! 
how long, wilt thou cause us to wait 1 How long be- 
fore we shall see our desires accomplished upon those 
whom we hate ? How' long before thy wrath shall be 
poured out upon our enemies and consume them from 
the face of the earth, so that men shall seek them and 
shall not find them, and the smoke of their ruin and the 
stench of their corruption shall alone declare the place 
where once stood the cities of their pride, and dw r elt the 
multitudes of their inhabitants. Consume them quickly 
in thy wrath, O God, and in thine anger cause them to 
perish. Let thy enemies and the enemies of Jacob flee 
before the face of thine anointed, and the kingdom be 
again given to Israel. Now is the set time, O Lord, 
the set time, the time for the redemption of Judah and 
the reign of Israel. Give us to know him whom thou 
shalt send. Let not our eyes be blind when the mes- 
senger of the covenant shall suddenly appear ; let not 
our hearts be hard nor our ears^ dull of hearing. Make 
the signs to be plainly discerned even in the broad face 
of the heavens, that shall proclaim the King of Israel ; 
and may the people quickly gather themselves unto 
him, with their swords girded upon their loins, with 
bows, and javelins, and spears, to take vengeance upon 
the oppressor, and bring deliverance to the captive. 
May thy kingdom come, even now, O Lord, that the 


JULIAN. 


99 


eyes of thy servant may behold it, and may there be no 
tarrying. Show us him whom thou hast sealed, on 
whom thou hast set thy name, whom thou hast called 
thy Son, — Son of David, King of Israel, Saviour of 
Judah, Redeemer of Jacob, The Anointed. Light hath 
arisen, O Lord, upon our land, but our hearts are di- 
vided, our minds are in doubt and amazement. Scatter 
the clouds, and let us see plainly in whom thou wouldst 
have us to trust, and where is the hiding of thy power. 
If it be in thy servant Jesus and in no other, or in John 
and no other, or in Herod and no other, cause that he 
quickly array himself in his royal robes, and crown 
himself w r ith his royal diadem, and sit upon the throne 
of his fathers, so that we may know him, and that unto 
him there shall be a gathering of the people. Then upon 
our enemies shall there fall blasting and mildew, and a 
curse and utter destruction before the face of the Lord ; 
and the kingdom of God shall be established, it shall be 
unto the ends of the earth, and there shall be no other.” 

These and other like things did Onias pour forth 
in his prayer ; and truly if prayers be answered accord- 
ing to the faith and truth of those who make them, then 
will the petitions of thy brother be fulfilled; for his 
words are things rather than their names and shadows 
only. What he says is a thing done, having its force 
and reality. 

As we descended from the house-top to the lower 
apartments of the house, Judith desired to speak with 
me ; but when we had withdrawn to the portico, she de- 
ferred still to some other time that which she wished to 
communicate, and together with the rest of the household 
we also retired. 


100 


JULIAN. 


The earnest manner of Judith, while at the same time 
she lightly postponed the interview which a moment be- 
fore she had sought, led me not with doubt or difficulty 
to conjecture what it was, that would have been the bur- 
den of her discourse. As I have already said to thee, 
my mother, she is beloved of the noble Roman, Satur- 
ninus, and by her is he in turn equally beloved, and well 
are they worthy each of the regards of the other. But 
the bar which their religions raise between them appears 
insurmountable. In Rome, indeed, as thou knowest, it 
is not seldom overleaped, and the Roman and the J ew 
are joined together. So too in Judea are these differ- 
ences overcome on the part of many ; especially in those 
places where the introduction of Roman usages and the 
Roman tongue with Roman inhabitants, has helped to 
bring the two people into a nearer intercourse, and a 
better knowledge of each other. They have in this 
manner discovered, what else they might forever have 
remained ignorant of, that save in name and in other 
matters not less accidental, they have been made by the 
Father of All much alike; that a Roman heart is much 
like a Jewish heart, a Roman nature much like a J ewish ; 
that a man is a man, and a woman a woman, notwith- 
standing name, country, religion, and outward beauty or 
ugliness ; and that the things in which they are the same 
outweigh, by an immense preponderance, those wherein 
they are different. So that in such circumstances, in 
spite of the outcries of many, and the prejudices inherit- 
ed from ancient customs, the Jews and natives of Rome 
and other countries have obeyed the instincts which have 
directed their affections to each other. Yet are there 
many, very many, who would by no means give way to 


JULIAN. 


101 


such affection in themselves, nor permit it in a child. 
And of such is Onias. 

The regard, which at first he conceived for Saturninus, 
led him to extend towards him hospitalities and a friend- 
ship, rare in a Jew toward an alien, and which have 
brought upon him in no light measure the rebukes of the 
more strict. But had he foreseen the consequences, sooner 
would he have sacrificed his life, I believe, than have done 
aught to provoke them. He relied doubtless on the nat- 
ural hatred of the Jew for the Roman, to defend his 
daughter, as himself, from any nearer intercourse than 
the distant one allowed by the most formal observances 
of society. Alas ! how vain the reliance. Love laughs 
such barriers to scorn. It is free of country, religion, 
and the wide world. Nevertheless, what shall Onias do 
or say ? Only one thing possibly. Never would thy 
stern yet loving brother, that Jew of Jews, that hater of 
the gentile, surrender her to a Roman. How will Zadok 
now, and such as he, gall the spirit of Onias by their 
harsh constructions. How wdll they charge this issue as 
a judgment of God upon him for his looseness in receiv- 
ing the heathen to his board. Yet in Shammai will he 
find a gentle adviser and friend, and so too will Judith, 
and one no less confiding in Julian. 

I thank thee, my mother, for thy late full supplies of 
Roman news. Surely Sejanus must have been made 
blind by the gods not to perceive the significancy of 
such conduct and such language in Tiberius. 1 et per- 
haps it is but the blindness which a low ambition and a 
wicked selfishness inflicts necessarily upon itself. He 
has gazed upon his own dazzling fortunes so long, that 
eyesight is gone for other things. Grim and deadly as 
9 * 


102 


JULIAN. 


Tiberius stands before him, he sees him not ; nor any 
better can he hear the low but heavy rumbling, as of an 
earthquake, of a nation’s discontent, — of that vast multi- 
tude whom he has injured in themselves, their friends, 
or their fortunes, and who now begin to perceive that the 
Emperor is also on their side, and one tyrant may be 
set against the other. That were a sight truly grateful, 
to behold either of those who have glutted their fatal ap 
petite on so many innocent, at length falling into the 
bloody fangs of the other. Such a fate seems likely 
enough to befall Sejanus, yet after all he may first 
spring upon Tiberius. 

You say that little heed is given among our people m 
Rome to the rumors which have reached it of Jesus, and 
you yourself show not by your replies, that your own 
concern is much deeper. Judith marvels at this. I do 
not ; seeing that the accounts which have reached you of 
Jesus, are none of them such as agree with the prevailing 
hopes of the expected deliverer. Jesus having given no 
sign by which to judge him, save his miracles, I marvel 
not at all that you in Rome at once rank him with those 
who, by the arts of magic, and credulity on the part of 
the multitude, have a thousand times deluded the nation. 
The wonders which are ascribed to Jesus cause him 
naturally, where there is no opportunity of a careful 
examination and comparison, to be put but on a level 
with sorcerers and exorcists, of whom the world is full. 
But I am clearly pursuaded, my mother, that there is 
something more in what is now taking place than you, 
and others in Rome, dream of ; widely different from 
what has been witnessed before, either here or elsewhere. 
For the works of a wonderful kind, which are related of 


JULIAN. 


io;j 

Jesus, are in their nature, and the manner in which they 
are performed, so different from such as are done by 
magicians, that all who have witnessed them declare v» ilh 
one voice, they can be performed by no other power than 
that of God. Pharisee and S.idducee, Jew and Samar- 
itan, all agree in bearing this testimony. They doubt 
not that he is indeed a prophet, filled for some purpose, 
not as yet known or by him declared, with the spirit and 
power of Jehovah. But besides this, it is affirmed that 
his teachings are such as declare him to be of God, not 
less, or more than his miracles, that his character is 
every way admirable, and his life holy, beyond the meas- 
ure of other men. Can we doubt that he will presently 
show himself to be more than a prophet? It will not 
be long, therefore, as I judge, ere you, in Rome and in 
other distant places, will, even as they who are here pres- 
ent, be curious to learn all that is to be known of this 
strange person. ’As you will yourself, my mother, be 
more and more desirous of further intelligence, just in 
the proportion to that which I shall send you — for where 
w T as there ever goodness in which you felt not interest ? 
— I shall take all pains to keep you informed of whatever 
there is worthy of trust that comes to my ear. I cannot 
well judge myself what shall be its issue; but shall, I 
confess, be amazed, if so much do not result as shall 
fill w T ith astonishment not only Judea but Rome also. 

Remember me with affection to the members of our 
household, and to my fellow travellers. 


104 


.TUI TAF. 


XVIII. 


This, my mother, reaches you from Tiberias, whither 
I am come at the command of Ilerod. 

It is many weeks since I last wrote. As we are now 
suffering under the fervors of a summer’s sun, I grieve 
not, that I am perforce on the shores of this inland sea, 
over which the winds as they sweep are deprived of a 
portion of that burning heat they bring with them from 
the Asiatic deserts. 

A few days only had passed after I had despatched my 
last letter, when by a messenger from this place I was 
summoned to attend the Tetrarch ; and Onias at the 
same time left Beth-Harem for the western shores of the 
Dead Sea and the region of Idumea. I was by no means 
sorry to be thus drawn away from Beth-IIarem, from 
which, owing to the manner in which I have bound my- 
self to both Onias and Herod, I have not been at liberty 
to depart, as I had intended to do from time to time, 
that I might see more of the country and the inhabit- 
ants. 

On my way to Tiberias I passed through a long 
stretch of the valley of the Jordan, giving to the eye of 
the traveller a succession of scenes similar to those or 
its banks in the neighborhood of Beth-Harem, and Betha- 
bara. The lake of Gennesareth greeted the sight with 
a wide prospect of beauty, as on a short turn of the 


JULIAN. 


105 


river it suddenly opened upon me, lying quiet and calm 
in the bosom of hills running along on the eastern and 
western shores, the loftier mountains of Lebanon show- 
ing their snow-clad summits in the north. Immediately 
on gaining the borders of the lake, Tiberias rose to view 
on its western side — a large city encompassed by lofty 
walls, tlje buildings rising as they retreat toward the 
mountains one above another, and overlooking the whole 
extent of the lake. Hither I directed my steps, but 
learned that the palace of the Tetrarch, in which he 
chiefly resides, is at a little distance without the walls, 
covering a small eminence that commands a view of 
the city and of the water. 

I doubt not, my mother, you have wondered not a 
little that I have continued thus to unite myself to the 
service of Herod, for whom in various letters I have ex- 
pressed but slight regard. I have been surprised myself 
at times at my own position and relations toward him ; 
to that degree indeed that I could not find any explana- 
tion but in the persuasion, that we are led toward the 
ends that are best by a providence whose designs we 
cannot penetrate, whom we can serve only by submit- 
ting to its controlling and guiding force. I have faltered, 
L confess, in my purposes more than once; for, notwith- 
standing the deep convictions and lofty praises bestowed 
by Onias and Zadok upon the Tetrarch, I have felt in- 
clined to put more confidence in the results I have my- 
self arrived at concerning him, in spite of my compara- 
tively narrow opportunities of observing and studying 
his character. Still while any darkness or doubt re- 
mained, I was willing to seek him once more that, if it 


106 


JULIAN. 


were possible, by further communications it might be 
removed. 

Upon announcing myself at the palace gate as desirous 
to see the Tetrarch, I was conducted to an apartment, 
where I found Chuza, the Steward, who received me 
courteously, as one whom he had known before at Ma- 
chaerus, and who was aware of my relations to Herod. 
Joanna, the wife of Chuza, sat at an open window plying 
busily her needle, while a little child pursued its sports 
at her side. The mother raised her head as I entered, 
revealing a countenance sad, and exhibiting traces of 
recent tears. Yet she received me with a smile, and 
bade me welcome, as Chuza named me, to the palace. 
Upon inquiring for the Tetrarch I was told he was then 
absent upon the lake, but would soon return. 

“ In the meantime,” said Joanna, “be pleased to rest 
here where the air comes cool from the water and the 
approach of the king can be seen.” 

“ You have of late had another king, as some esteem 
him, upon these waters I observed to Chuza. 

“ Aye,” he answered ; “ that is, at the other end of 
the lake in the region of Capernaum. He hath made 
there a great stir, and indeed among the people here also, 
many having followed him, even from Tiberias. Had 
he drawn nearer to us I fear lest the palace itself had 
sustained losses.” 

“ And may even yet,” said Joanna in a low voice, as 
if speaking rather to herself than replying to her hus- 
band. 

“ There it is,” exclaimed Chuza, “ there it is. As 
thou seest, sir, all the people are beside themselves — 
towns emptied, cities in confusion, the husbandmen for- 


JULIAN. 


107 


saking the field, the housewife her distaff, families di- 
vided among themselves, all for this — how shall we 
name him *?” 

“ Name him as yet,” said his wife, “ no otherwise than 
reverently ; for, as I have said, neither thou, nor I, nor 
any one, knows what or who he may be; yet of one 
thing are we even now doubly assured, that he is a wise 
and righteous man.” 

“ But,” said her husband, “ suppose he draw from 
Chuza his wife J oanna ; how, and what then 1” 

“Then,” said Joanna, “ let Chuza follow.” 

“ Not so, not so,” cried the steward, “ I leave not what 
is, for what only may be ; nor will Joanna, if she will 
be ruled by realities instead of dreams.” 

“ It is no dream,” said his wife, “ that the words of 
Jesus are like those of no other, that he speaks as none 
of the priests or scribes ever do, and that he performs 
wonders which those only can whom God inspires, and by 
his life and virtues fills those who draw near with an awe 
and a love, such as are felt toward no other.” 

“ Nay,” replied Chuza, “ all that may be real and no 
dream ; thou hast seen and heard thyself, and who shall 
deny the truth of what Joanna the daughter of Phasael 
affirms'? Yet still may it be declared, that all this 
woven together makes Tut a weak and insufficient reason 
for doing as so many have done and are doing. For that, 
there will, as I have constantly affirmed, be time enough 
and more than enough, when he shall more plainly have 
declared himself.” 

“Thou seest,” said Joanna, “that I am content to 
wait.” 

“ Thou art the very best of wives,” cried Chuza, “ and 


108 


JULIAN. 


in saying so, I forget not o.ur great mistress.” As he 
ended, he snatched up the little child, who had run to- 
wards him, and kissed it vehemently, as the best sub- 
stitute he could find, near at hand and in the presence 
of others, of its young mother. 

I was rejoiced to meet with one who had both seen 
and heard Jesus, and eagerly approached her to obtain 
some better knowledge than I had been able as yet to 
find access to, concerning him, when Chuza exclaimed, — 

“ See ! the Tetrarch comes ; his boat is already at the 
shore.” 

I looked as he directed, and saw the boat of many 
banks of oars making rapidly toward the quay. In a 
moment more Herod was seen ascending toward the 
palace. 

Learning immediately that I had arrived, he desired 
my attendance. Herod on receiving me appeared not 
quite at his ease, as remembering the conversations that 
on my visit at Machserus had passed between us ; yet 
did he so far overcome his feelings as to greet me w T ith 
affability, and bid me heartily welcome to Tiberias, 
presenting me at the same time to some who stood with 
him. 

“ The present posture of our affairs, my young Ro- 
man,” said he, “ is far enough off from what at Machse- 
rus we promised ourselves it would be by this hour.” 

“ It is so, indeed,” I answered ; “ yet it seems to be 
so, in no wise as a consequence of any error on our 
part. W e cannot control the sun in the heavens ; but 
still less the minds and hearts of men.” 

“ Ah,” he quickly rejoined, “ they are not for thrones 
who know not to turn the hearts of the people as they 


JULIAN. 


109 


will, and who keep not moreover their own counsels. 
By the soul of my father, I have come to think of my 
self hut as of a common man, since the day I held by 
the judgment of Onias and a young stripling of Rome, 
rather than my own. Had John been then closely 
mewed up, we had now been far on to the end of our 
enterprise. Now, not only is he at large, still poison- 
ing the minds of men, but another is sprung up of the 
same sort, save that he carries away the people even 
more than the first. For one to deal with, there are 
now two.” 

I asked if he himself had seen Jesus, so as to form 
any judgment concerning him. 

“ 1 have not seen him, though I have desired to do so. 
While he was on the upper shores of the lake I was at 
Machoerus. But he draws many after him and aston- 
ishes them by his miracles — so all report to me, and all 
cannot be deceived. How sayest thou, Jaddua ?” turn- 
ing to a doctor of the Law who stood near him. 

“ Doubtless,” said the Rabbi, “ it was at first thought 
to be as your mightiness has said ; there were wonder- 
ful works done by his hand, which verily seemed to be 
done by the power of God given to him as of old to 
Moses and Elias, and the people being all in expecta- 
tion flocked about him, but with their eyes blinded be- 
cause of such expectation, and incapable of judgment. 
But Jesus having been a long time among them, the 
blindness is now in part removed ; and him whom so 
hastily they took for a great one they already begin to 
doubt.” 

“ Ah, it is just as I have said,” cried Herod ; “ I knew 
it would be with him as with John. They thronged the 

Vol. II. — 10 


JULIAN. 


110 

Baptist awhile — now he is forsaken save by a few foi 
Jesus, and to-morrow Jesus will in turn be abandoned. 
Sees not Onias, Julian, his folly] What is there here 
to cast an obstacle so thick as one’s finger in our way 1” 

I said, I still thought that, whether deceived or not, 
the people were at present even too much distracted by 
the strange events of the time to be approached with 
much prospect of success. Yet if it be true, as the 
learned scribe hath reported, that already those who fol- 
low him begin to doubt him, the day could not be fir 
off that he might resume his undertaking. 

“ It can be no otherwise,” said J addua, “ than that the 
people should fall away from him — for verily though 
they have sought him so long, what hath come of it ? 
He still as at first wanders about on foot, consorting not 
with the great and the learned of the land, with the 
rulers and the chief priests, but with the common 
people, just as they happen to throng him, and in his 
teaching casts contempt upon the Law, its ministers, 
and its rites. Here, say the wiser, be few signs of the 
Christ, and we leave him with those who have eyes to 
see farther than ours ; mayhap beggars and outcasts, 
publicans, and sinners of the gentiles may behold the 
Son of David, where we can see only a besotted son of 
man, or child of the devil.” 

“ Y et,” I asked, “ they who doubt are, as I have 
heard, very few to the multitudes who still believe ]” 

“ Ah,” said Jaddua, “ the multitude is easily led ; feed 
them, only feed them, which Jesus does, and beside that 
please their love of wonder, and their friendship is se- 
cured. Doubtless the most part for such reasons do 
still believe, and so throng him. But they who look 


JULIAN. 


Ill 


toward the future, and think not of themselves, but of 
the salvation of Israel, begin to draw back, or arc in 
doubt. They see before them, indeed, in Jesus, one 
whom they cannot fully comprehend or explain, but 
they see not the Christ.” 

“ Truly,” said the Tetrarch, “ I can discover in this 
Jesus of Nazareth, from all the reports that reach my 
ear, no qualities or purposes that should cause hesita- 
tion or delay in our enterprise. He seems thus far to 
be a mild and peaceable man, concerning himself not at 
all, as doth John, with public affairs and things that are 
above him ; but with more wisdom devoting himself to 
the instruction of the common people, and to the per- 
formance of works of charity and mercy, however the 
power by which he does them may be derived — whether 
from the God of Abraham, or the god of the Sidonians. 
If there be still great numbers who in their stupidity 
persist in the belief that he is, or will prove to be the 
Christ, he himself truly appears to be possessed of more 
reason, and giveth no encouragement to such madness, 
affecting no state and making no promises even, so we 
hear, to his nearest followers. This man we may well 
let alone ; nay, if it be true that he assaileth the Law 
and the Pharisees, and impugneth the spotless righteous- 
ness of their lives, it will go hard, but the priests and 
the Council will see after him, and serve us better than 
we could serve ourselves. Say we not right, Jaddua?” 

44 1 would not that aught should be done in haste,” 
replied the scribe, 44 but as I trow, should all prove to 
be true that we hear, I think, and I trust that those of 
whom thou speakest will see to it, that his career shall 
be a short one. There be those yet among both rulers 


112 


JULIAti. 


and people — glory be to the God of our fathers — whu 
love the Law, and will not see it assailed, or stained by 
so much as a word or a breath of reproach, but they 
will stand forth to stone the blasphemer unto death.” 

“ I doubt it not,” said Herod, “ our subjects are loyal 
toward not us alone, but the Law also ; and such a 
people shall be blessed of the Lord and prosper. I fear 
not Jesus, nor any power he may win over the people, 
seeing the path he hath chosen to travel. He, I say, 
may be let alone; yet the insolence of John well de- 
serveth punishment ; and of his purposes there may be 
with reason more apprehension. His tongue is as a 
scourge of scorpions that falleth alike on all, we, even, 
escape not, but he whips us before the people for our 
sins, as he counteth them, as any beggar of them all. 
Let him look to himself. By the soul of my father, but 
it were a good deed to hang him in his own girdle. 
What think you, Jaddual” 

“ As a busybody, an intermeddler, a despiser of au- 
thorities, and one moreover who casteth dirt upon our 
holy order,” answered the scribe, “ and aimeth to bring 
the excellent and the holy into contempt with the people, 
doth he well deserve the favor thou wouldst bestow upon 
him. The rabble truly affect him, and doubtless would 
clamor; but who are they to stand between the Law 
and its victim ?” 

I said that I did not believe John could be touched 
with advantage or safety. The people hold him to be a 
prophet, and conceive besides that he is their defender 
and shield against the priesthood, the Pharisees, and the 
mighty in the land, whom he assails in his preaching, 
and accuseth openly of the hypocrisies and iniquities 


JULIAS'. 


113 


which all men know to lie at their door, hut which none 
save he is hold enough to charge upon them. Such 
charges the people know to he just, as doth every one 
who hath the natural sight of a man. 

By the sudden expression of Herod’s countenance I 
could easily perceive, that he secretly enjoyed what, I 
confess, I said without so much as thinking of Jaddua, 
and the presence of some priests who stood with him. 
He turned to them as they were ready to break out with 
indignation and said, — 

“ By the beard of Aaron ! hut this youth is little more 
civil toward the holy priesthood, than John himself. We 
must beg you, Fathers, to pardon his ignorance, seeing 
he hath but of late come into our kingdom, and seeing, 
moreover, he is hardly yet arrived at years of wisdom. 
We will advise him in private, and do what in us lies to 
inspire him with due reverence toward the ministers of 
the Law, whose lives should be as spotless, yea, and are 
doubtless, as their robes.” 

Saying this he motioned to them to withdraw, which 
they did with countenances inflamed with rage, putting 
unwilling restraint upon their tongues. 

Soon as they were withdrawn and beyond the reach 
of our voices, Ilerod broke into loud laughter, amusing 
himself greatly with 'their looks of astonishment at 
hearing themselves so berated in the very presence of 
the Tetrarch. “ The knaves,” said he, as soon as he 
could cease from his laughter, “ they have for once heard 
the truth in the king’s presence, or rather some small 
portion of it. Though we reprove them not ourselves, 
it being needful to secure their good opinion, yet we 
know them well, and were well content to behold them 
10* H 


1 14 


JULIAN. 

writhing under the scourge thou didst lay on ; would it 
had been with the scorpion lash they so well deserve. 
But I saw why thy hand was stayed.” 

Calling upon me then to follow him, we left the more 
public room where we had been conversing, for one more 
private, into which none are admitted but the partners 
of his most secret counsels. 

When we were seated in this more private apartment, 
Herod asked with particularity after Onias, and said he, 

“ that bright flower of the Jordan, Judith, how fares the' 
damsel 1 well worthy for her beauty to be queen of Ju- 
dea, Rome, or the world.” 

I made slight, but as I was bound to do, courteous 
answer, though I confess a pain, at hearing her name 
from such lips. Yet, perhaps, I . do Herod injustice. 

I need not relate, my mother, the conversations which 
now ensued upon all the subjects connected with the en- 
terprise of Herod, the obstructions thrown in his way 
by the appearance of John and Jesus, and the probabili- 
ties concerning the success of Sejanus in Rome, and the 
aid to be derived from him. Of all the impediments, 
however, which oppose his movement, it is easy to see, 
notwithstanding the manner in which at first he had 
spoken of it, that he most fears the power of Jesus. He 
will not confess it before the Pharisees and the priests, but 
seeing deeper than they, he apprehends lest by those very 
virtues, and that humble and lowly manner of life, which 
to a dull sight seems to make him harmless, he should 
build for himself a foundation in the hearts of the peo 
pie, deeper than could have been laid in any other way 
and too deep to be rooted up. “ Although,” he said, “ I 
have not seen him, yet I have made the most diligent 


JULIAN. ; 115 

and exact inquiries, and to them all I have as yet re- 
ceived but the same answers, all of which go to prove 
that a man every way extraordinary hath arisen among 
us. Ilis virtues and manner of life are such, as secure 
the veneration of most of those who throng his steps, 
notwithstanding there be some who accuse him of ex- 
cesses, and of hostility to the Law ; but these may well 
be set down as calumnies of those who envy him — for 
when was there innocence or virtue, without their de- 
tractors? His powers of healing and working other 
miracles witnessed by so many — whether they be powers 
derived from our God or some other, or whether from 
magic, or the spirits who fill the earth and air, I cannot 
guess ; nor can I tell in truth whether his life and char- 
acter be sincerely exhibited, or falsely, for selfish pur- 
poses only. All I truly know, young Roman, is this, 
that he obtains sway over the people, and that each day 
thus far, as my spies inform me, doth it grow wider and 
wider. At the present time, I confess my fears to have 
somewhat diminished, from what has even within a day 
been reported, that he had offended the Pharisees by the 
heat of his reproaches, and caused many to doubt his 
Messiahship by reason of the strange truths he preaches, 
which appear to those who follow his steps to be contra- 
dictory of the office and work expected of the Christ, 
and to make it impossible, that with such opinions he 
should ever undertake them. Let him proceed in the 
same way, and at least, the more powerful of the Phari- 
sees, of the Council, and of the nation, will be turned 
against him, being persuaded that he who can deride and 
contemn them, the very sinews of the nation, cannot be 
that Christ who is to exalt the nation. So far, accord- 


m 


J ULIAF. 


ingly, as these are concerned, they will work for us, with- 
out the necessity of our interposing. Jesus himself will 
destroy himself. But, Julian, behind these who are the 
few — however powerful — there are the many, the stupid 
populace, this fiery headstrong rabble of the common 
people, whom to bridle, ride, and govern, asks the craft 
of the devil, and the strength of seven archangels. They 
are now beside themselves with their foolish worship of 
this man of Nazareth — our cities and our towns depopu- 
lated, while they run hither and thither, as they, say, to 
hear his words in the synagogue, or by the roadside, but 
as is more likely, to gape with idle wonder, to gossip, 
and breed revolt. They doubt not — not they, O wise 
and far-seeing people ! — that Jesus is their king, that by 
him, a mechanic-king, a low-born peasant-monarch, of 
their own base blood, they shall come to strange honors 
and liberties, they shall be slaves no more, but freemen 
of the soil, with a king over them or under them of their 
own choosing, and Rome and the llerods at their feet. 
These, young Roman, are our real enemies, and until 
they are drawn off from these wild fancies or Jesus is 
drawn from them, our purposes must halt, and our hands 
hang idle. And who am I, to defer to this carpentor- 
king — holding back while he mounts where I should 
stand V' 

He paused and looked at me as if for a reply. 

I said, “ that I by no means wondered at the present 
enthusiasm of the people, but I was firmly persuaded 
that it would work its own cure. If Jesus,” l continued, 
“be in truth the Messiah by the appointment of Gocj 
(certainly he is a prophet of great authority) then wilt 
thou, as well as I and every loyal Hebrew, hasten to do 


117 


JULIAN. 

him homage” — Herod’s countenance grew dark— “ we 
can desire no other than to acknowledge him whom God 
shall send — the people will then be where we would 
have them. If he be not the true Messiah, the signs that 
should show him such will be wanting, and the people, 
deceived in their hopes, will fall away from him ; first 
doubtless revenging themselves for their disappointment, 
In the meanwhile” — 

“ Ay,” interrupted the Tetrarch— “ what in the mean 
while ?” 

“ In the mean while,” I resumed, “ I should counsel a 
patient waiting, that we may not be found possibly re- 
sisting the purposes of Jehovah. And such,” I added, 
“ do I know to be the judgment of Onias.” 

Herod’s lip curled with an expression of contempt, as 
he said, “Verily 1 think that you do all hold of the fair 
Judith, who, as I learn, is more than half a believer in 
Jesus ; and for herself, as I learn also, is a disciple of the 
holy Saturninus.” 

It seemed strange to me that Herod should have 
known, even so much as this, of the private thoughts of 
two persons so remote from him, and I could not but 
entertain the conviction, that for purposes of his own he 
had informed himself by a direct employment of secret 
means of w hat could not have been easily known other- 
wise. Yet, it w r as possible also that he might have 
obtained all he knew by honest aud proper channels. I 
therefore only replied, 

“ That it was indeed true that the daughter of Oif as 
looked w ith great hope to Jesus, that he would piove 
himself both prophet and king ; nay, though he w'ere 


118 


JULIAN. 


only prophet, slie would not refuse to own him as the 
Christ, did other proofs conspire.” 

“ Ah,” said the King, “that comes of her Samaritan 
^earing ; she is foolish as her ancestors, who, denying 
the Prophets, who alone foreshow the Christ, are a peo- 
ple accursed. But, Julian, we stray from what we were 
saying. Lest, then, the people should cling too closely 
to Jesus, and overlook some of the reasons that may 
readily be urged against his claims, and lest the hind- 
rances thrown in his w'ay by the rulers and priests should 
not be sufficiently availing, it shall not be my fault if 
there be not thickly scattered over the land, wherever 
this Nazarene shall wander with his fishermen, those who 
shall sow in the minds of the people seed of another 
sort, and pluck up, as they may, what he hath planted, 
and stir into the mass of those whom he shall gather to- 
gether a leaven, that shall cause it to move and heave, 
if not to my rising, to his falling. I might perhaps and 
with safety, as I just now said, leave this whole office to 
the Pharisees, priests, and to Jesus himself ; it can hardly 
be doubtful to what issue events would come. But as 
it is a pleasure, in a remote retreat, still to use instru- 
ments by which at a distance great designs of others are 
rendered abortive, so I cannot wholly refrain from doing 
as I have hinted ; but chiefly, you will not doubt, Julian, 
that I am moved to such endeavors that thereby the 
great Jehovah may be honored, the coming of the true 
kingdom of God be promoted and hastened, and those 
defeated, who, without other authority than that of their 
own bewildered fancy and the cries of a blinded popu- 
lace, think to step in and thw r art his purposes. While I 
live, and reign, let me be true to the Law, to the Pro- 


JULIAN. 


no 


phet who gave the Law, and to God who gave the Pro- 
phet.” 

I still ventured to urge a further delay, and on the 
ground, that as we could not know all the purposes and 
plans of Jehovah, so we could not feel sure that Jesus 
was not the Son of God, revealing himself to the people 
in the way, not in which we had been taught to expect 
him, but in a way appointed by him who sent him. 
There were indeed as yet no marks of such a character 
and office to be seen in him, nor had he declared to any 
one that he had come as the Christ ; but it was not to be 
denied that he was invested with divine powers, that he 
was already possessed of a portion of the spirit of God, 
which, truly, the people look for as making a part of 
what shall constitute their king ; and who therefore can 
say that he may not even yet, notwithstanding the pres- 
ent appearances, give those signs, whether in heaven or 
on earth, unequivocal and convincing, that shall prove 
him to be the Christ. He who can heal the sick, and 
convert water into wine, and to limbs withered and dead 
restore life and strength, and all by a word of the 
mouth, it is plain, has only to exert the same power in 
other directions and to other ends, to stand before the 
people in a blaze of glory, the dispenser of honors and 
wealth, the leader of innumerable hosts, the resistless 
conqueror, before whose arm, nerved with the energy of- 
God, and bearing the thunderbolts of the Omnipotent, 
earthly power, though that of Rome with all the world 
in league, would sink and fade, as mists in ihe rays 
of the morning sun. 

Herod seemed to be struck, as I spoke these things, 
with their reasonableness, and as I ended, I rejoiced to 


ISO 


JULIAN. 


find him not too much wedded to his own opinion, to 
say so. 

“ That is all possible,” he said ; “ it cannot be denied 
it is all possible ^Jesus may yet put forth an energy 
that has not been seen or suspected, and show himself to 
be all the nation is looking and asking for. We learn 
too that there is not only mildness, but dignity and 
greatness also in his carriage, not unworthy a king.” 
Herod paused, and for a few moments remained buried 
in thought, but from his musing suddenly broke forth 
with vehemence, — 

“ No, young man, no, it cannot be so. This is all idle 
dreaming. A Nazarene mechanic, a carpenter and the 
son of a carpenter, can never be king of Israel. I 
fear him not. Prophet he may be, Elias he may be, but 
not the Christ. The work of Messiah is one, — one chiefly, 
and for which there is little meetness in this lamb-like 
peasant of Galilee. So, too, I believe, the people will 
soon discover, as well as the scribes and priests. But 
enough of this. Let us now forth ; I would show thee, 
Julian, that in Tiberias not less than in Machaerus are 
there proofs many and convincing, that the Tetrarch of 
Galilee needs but to use the strength he has, to be hailed 
king of Israel ! 1 will show thee the secret treasures of 

Tiberias.” 

So saying he called upon me to follow him, and leav- 
ing the palace for the city, we there entered the citadel, 
and in vaults and secret apartments and buildings, bear- 
ing without no signs of the purposes to which they were 
devoted, I beheld immense collections of all the imple- 
ments of war. 

“These,” said Herod, “with more than these in Seph- 


J l LI AN. 


121 

oris, are an ample supply for all the northern portion 
of the land, as those in Machcerus and at Herodium are 
for all the southern. Let there be Jewish arms and 
hands to wield these instruments of death, with stout 
Jewish hearts behind these coats of mail, and the empire 
of Rome will quickly be at an end, not in Syria alone, 
but the East. Yes, Julian, in the East. Not with more 
certainty will Sejanus reign in Rome, than will Herod 
Antipas in Jerusalem; and not with a wider sway will 
Sejanus stretch his sceptre over Europe and the West, 
than will Herod over Asia and the East. And, that the 
last rivet may be driven into the compact that makes all 
this to be so, would I soon have thee, Julian, as hath been 
already agreed, hie thee to Rome ; there, with the knowl- 
edge which thou more than any other in Judea possess- 
cst, to complete what has been well begun. Sejanus, 
though no model of virtue, is yet as I think in public 
affairs to be trusted. But if one may rarely trust himself, 
without some misgivings, much less, surely, may he 
another. Wherefore, it will be thy more especial office, 
while in Rome, to contrive every most secret and unsus- 
pected avenue to the soul of Sejanus, that his heart may 
be perfectly read, and the agreement or disagreement . 
that exists between his words and his real purposes be 
discovered.” 

I said that all that could be done in honor to reach 
the designs of Sejanus I would not hesitate to attempt. 

“ In honor !” said Herod, “ honor toward such as Se- 
janus % Hath he observed such rules towards others % 
And shall these come between a nation and its redemp- 
tion 1” 

“ Because Sejanus,” I answered, “ regards not the pu- 
ll 


JULIAN. 


122 

rity of Iiis soul, can surely be no good reason why 1 
should bring a stain upon mine ; and if it be that Judea 
or Herod can be saved only by transgressing such rules, 
then may they sink into the ruin that awaits and be- 
comes them.” 

At first Herod seemed, as I spoke, as if his passions 
were about to rise as when I was in Maehaerus ; but the 
expression of his countenance suddenly changed, and as 
I ended, he said laughing, — 

“ By the soul of my father, but that is well and 
bravely said. Violate surely, young man, no rule of 
truth and honor, that is really such ; we would not have 
thee. Yet are there many, by the world, falsely es- 
teemed such. Transgress these, and thou dost but the 
more sacredly observe the others. This is the sin I 
would have thee commit ; no other.” 

We now returned to the palace. 

That 1 may aid him in many affairs, in which I also 
now have an interest as well as every other Jew, Herod 
solicits me to remain for a season at Tiberias. This I 
gladly consent to do, that I may know more, through a 
nearer intercourse, of this strange man, and become ac- 
quainted also with this region of the country, especially 
with the shores of this beautiful lake. I shall hope aisc 
to wander as far as Caesarea Philippi, the capital of Ilo- 
rod Philip. 


JULIAN. 


123 


I 

XIX. 


Marvel not, my mother, that I thus consent to re- 
main in Tiberias and in the service of Herod, while, as 
you v r ell know, I incline so strongly towards Jesus. 
My accounts of Jesus have made not a deeper impres- 
sion on your mind than I should have looked for ; and I 
am not surprised that in your last epistle you advise 
that I should for a time withdraw from Herod and 
Onias, and seek out the new Prophet, and follow him 
for a season at least, that by my own observation and 
hearing I may make up my judgment concerning his real 
character and purposes. This assuredly I shall do, if 
no clear and decisive judgment is made and proclaimed 
by the people, or by those who have already made the 
observations which I am hoping to do. In the mean- 
time I am becoming thoroughly acquainted with the af- 
fairs and plans of Herod, to which, after all, perhaps, it 
is most probable I shall join myself. Besides this also, 
so constantly do we receive intelligence of the move- 
ments of Jesus, and of the progress he makes, and the 
opinions he declares, and the miracles he performs, that 
it sometimes seems to me that my means of a right 
judgment are as many and as trustworthy here, as if I 
were among the multitudes who throng his steps. Many 
of his sayings are becoming common, and are treasured 
lip in the memory, or by others written down, that they 


124 


JULIAS. 


may be the better preserved, corrected, a ad enlarged by 
additions from future sources of information. The zeal 
in his behalf has been and is now almost universal; 
scarce any, save the chief men among the sect of the 
Pharisees and among the scribes and priests of J erusa* 
lem doubting, that whatever may be his present appear- 
ance, conduct, and even language, he will in no long 
time break forth in all the glory of our expected Prince. 
Yet there are those, who hitherto have firmly believed, 
yet now are perplexed or doubtful — their perplexities 
and doubts springing, as far as I can at present discover, 
from the language which Jesus uses respecting the Law, 
his disregard of the Sabbath, and the slight he casts 
upon those who are at the head both of religious and 
civil affairs, and to whom, were he really Messiah, he 
would, they think, certainly attach himself. 

After many days devoted to the affairs of Herod, I at 
length obtained the freedom which I had long desired, to 
visit the villages scattered along this western shore of 
the lake, and especially Capernaum at its head, where 
Jesus has dwelt much of the time since his baptism, and 
where he has performed many of his miracles; and 
Bethsaida, about midway between Tiberias and Caper- 
naum, whence, as I learn, Jesus hath drawn many of his 
followers. 

Alone, on foot, with my staff in my hand, did I per- 
form this journey, keeping for the most part on the very 
shores of the lake, turning aside into the villages only 
for the purposes of shelter and rest by night. 

Nowhere, as I believe, my mother, could the traveller 
enjoy more of what is both beautiful and grand in the 


JULIAN. 


125 


works of God, than on the shores of this little inland 
sea. As I left Tiberias with my face to the north I be- 
held the lake in its whole length, embedded, as it w r ere, 
among lofty mountains, some approaching close to the 
very edge of the water, and terminating in abrupt pre- 
cipices, others sloping gradually down with a plain be- 
tween their roots and the lake, where roofs and towering 
pinnacles glittering in the sun from out the midst of 
groves, betrayed the sites of fortress, village, and city. 
Rising high over all the nearer hills, and reigning as 
kings over dependent princes, shone the snowy tops of 
Lebanon, w r ith a blaze of light too bright for the eye to 
look upon without pain. Genesareth lay among these 
hills, calm and unruffled, save by the occasional stirring 
of a summer breeze, as it slowdy swept over it, or by 
the passing across of the fishermen’s boats, as they went 
forth to cast their nets, or were returning laden with 
their rich spoils. Although the heat of the sun was 
great, yet by seeking the shelter of occasional groves, or 
the ledges of rock overhanging the very brink of the 
water, f kept on my way without interruption or dis- 
comfort, — on the other hand enjoying in the highest de- 
gree the air, the prospect, the water, and above all, the 
freedom Of motion of which this kind of travelling may 
boast over all others. Often, and with no other reason 
than because it then pleased me to do so, I lingered at 
the root of some heavy-leafed tree, where it flung its 
dark shadow's over my path and on the edge of the 
water, or I lay along upon some smooth rock, and look- 
ing down into the clear depths of the lake, observed the 
sporting of the fish below, or watched the insects skim- 
ming waywardly the sleeping surface,— -no slow-paced 
11 * 


12G 


JULIAN. 


mule, hard-going camel, or fleet Arabian would I have 
accepted, to be deprived of such pleasures, Time, I in- 
deed wasted, or lost ; but wisdom, as I think, I gained, 
and was satisfied with the exchange. 

I soon reached Magdala, then passed Bethsaida, just 
visible on the west, standing far from the shores of the 
lake, and before the sun had reached his highest point, 
drew nigh to Capernaum at its extreme northern limit. 
When I was yet about two Roman miles from the town, 
still keeping to the very shores of the lake, but desiring, 
on account of the heat of the day and weariness, to reach 
it soon, that I might obtain rest, and the refreshment I 
greatly needed, I observed a boat, guided by two fisher- 
men, making toward the shelter of some projecting rocks 
near which I was walking. While I stood watching their 
motions, they reached the shore, and leaping from their 
boat drew it up upon the sand. Not doubting that from 
them 1 could obtain information concerning Capernaum, 
and a knowledge of the shortest path thereto, I approach- 
ed them and made such inquiries as I wished. They re- 
plied with civility, informing me of the inn at which 1 
should stop, and pointing out the shortest road. “ But,” 
said the elder of the two, “ Why, friend, shouldst thou 
not rest here with us, while the sun beats down so hot; 
and partake with us of our noon-day meal — thou shalt 
be very welcome.” I replied that nothing could be more 
agreeable, as I was both fatigued with the way and weak 
through want of food. “ Seat thyself, then,” said the 
other, on yonder rock within the shadows of the over- 
hanging clifiT, and thou shalt soon feast upon better fish 
than ever were drawn from the Great Sea, or any 
other.” 


J {ILIAN, 


127 


So saying, he and his companion employed themselves 
in first covering over with fresh leaves the fish they had 
caught, and then in lighting a fire of wood gathered from 
among the loose rocks, and preparing the frugal repast. 
The fish were soon broiling over the coals and the fragrant 
smoke spreading around a foretaste of the more solid en- 
joyment to follow. The cooked food, with but brief 
delay, was then spread upon a smooth rock which seem- 
ed as if it had long served for the same purpose, a loaf 
was added from the boat, and a cruse of water drawn 
from a spring in the dark recesses of the cave or grotto, 
at the mouth of which we sat ; — 

“ Now,” said the elder fisherman, “ the dinner is 
ready, approach and eat ; but first let us give thanks.” 
So in few but reverent words and with uplifted face, he 
acknowledged the providence of the Ruler of the world, 
and the God of Israel. 

“ I perceive,” said he as we ate, “ that you come by 
the way of Bethsaida and the southern part of the 
Lake.” 

I said, “ even from Tiberias.” 

“ I thought so much,” said the other ; “ for though you 
carry in your countenance something of the Jew, yet it 
shows as if you might have sprung of some of the mixed 
races, whom Herod compelled within the walls of Tibe- 
rias to people his new city. But if you come from 
Tiberias, doubtless you can tell us news of whaj 
Hr ad is now doing. Many reports are abroad, but we 
a only guess.” 

* 1 left him,” I said, “ within the city, quietly dwelling 

thin the walls of his palace.” 

“ Ah,” said the other, “ it is not by knowing where 


128 


JULIAN. 


Herod now is, or about what he seems to be employed, 
that one can come at the truth. He is a man of many 
faces. What we hear is, yet no one knows anything with 
certainty, nor can trace the first springing of the rumor, 
that he is laying, in secret, plans for seizing the sove- 
reignty of Judea — that many take him for the Christ 
who is to come, and hope through him to see the deliv- 
erance of the country.” 

I said that I knew well that such things were whisper- 
ed, but that at Tiberias no open signs were apparent of 
such movements, nor did the people there, though so 
near the Tetrarch, have any more certain knowledge of 
what had been spoken about, than he himself. Still more, 
Pilate and the Roman powers seemed to suspect nothing. 
How would the people of these parts, I asked, affect him, 
should such rumors prove to be well founded. 

“ He might find a few followers here,” he answered, 
“but not many, so long as John and Jesus are abroad 
among us. This youth, my partner, would join him, but 
so would not I.” 

The young man, in reply to my question how he had 
come to a knowledge of Herod’s purposes, said that it 
had been through his messengers whom he employed and 
who were scattered over Judea. “ As I judge,” said he, 
“ by means of such messengers he will spread a knowl- 
edge of his plans throughout the whole land, and will so 
work against both John and Jesus, that they will ere long 
be driven from the land.” 

“ There’s a young hopeful for you,” said the elder 
Fisherman ;” “ so caught away is he with these notions, 
that it is with much ado I secure now and then a day’s 
service at the nets or the line.” 


JULIAN. 


129 


Said the younger, “ W e must bear with one another ; 
the times are rent with opinions, families divided among 
themselves, and the wisest perplexed.” 

“ God forbid it should be otherwise, Nathaniel,” said 
the elder, “ yet much I fear me that ere long trouble 
will spring up in Israel, and the implements of the hus- 
bandman and the fisherman be beaten into swords and 
spears.” 

I asked him why he thought so ; I could see no imme- 
diate signs of war. 

“ Who doubts,” said he, “ what is rumored of Herod 1 
Nought indeed can be affirmed with confidence; even 
Pilate, as thou hast said, seems not apprehensive ; but 
though little is seen, none, who know the Tetrarch as 
well as his subjects in Galilee, would take that as a 
proof that there is nothing to be seen. Ilis presence 
and power are everywhere, and everywhere discernible 
by those who, as I do, mingle with many people of all 
classes and opinions. Of late truly his activity has been 
less.” 

I was surprised to find that so much was known, or so 
shrewdly guessed, of the plans and movements of Herod. 
But desirous to learn what I could from this man, who, 
notwithstanding his occupation, seemed to be one of 
those destined by nature to be the instructors and 
guides of others, I asked him why he supposed the activ- 
ity of Herod to be less now ? 

“ Without doubt.” he replied, “ because of the multi- 
tudes - who throng after Jesus of Nazareth. Whatever 
are or have been the purposes of Herod, they must per- 
force now be laid aside, seeing that other sounds and 
louder have filled the ears of the people. Ah, Sir, 

I 


130 


JULIAN. 

there were little chance for Herod, would J esus only de- 
clare himself. The people urge him to so ; but no such 
urgency has prevailed. While we cannot doubt that he 
is a prophet of God, seeing what his power is, yet will 
he give no sign, not to be mistaken, that he is the 
Christ ?’ 

“ Why,” I asked, “ are you so sure that he is a pro- 
phet of God 1 Is there no room for deception.” 

“ It may suit the purpose of some,” he answered, “ to 
call him deceiver, and to give his works to Beelzebub ; 
but no one, who has himself seen and heard, can in 
his heart doubt whence proceed his wisdom and his 
power.” 

“ And have you,” I asked, “ seen and heard him ?” 

“ Oh, Sir, often. Since his appearance after the bap- 
tism in the Jordan, he hath dwelt in our village ; and who 
is there in Capernaum that knoweth him not, and hath 
not seen and heard him ? lie journeys often indeed into 
the parts round about, and has lately been at the Feast 
in Jerusalem, and is now absent teaching in the towns 
near Samaria, but when these journeys are over, then he 
dwells in our town, and gladly do we hail his return.” 

“ And doth he mingle freely with the people, so that 
they are permitted to know him.” 

“Freely, most freely, doth he mingle with all who, 
with honest purposes, seek to hear him ; none are so 
poor, or so humble, but he is ready to do them good, by 
giving them the instruction they need, or by healing 
their diseases. From among such as these, — such as 
myself, — has he chosen his chief friends, those who are 
always with him. Our neighbors in the village, and our 
neighbors equally on the lake, Simon and his brother 


J ULIAN. 


131 


Andrew, fishermen as we are, not richer than we, nor 
higher in the world, has he drawn to himself ; and those 
who once join him, it is certain will never leave him, 
with such veneration and love doth he inspire them. I 
had followed him myself, Sir, hut for my family, whom 
I could not leave. Never am I so happy as when I 
listen to his words, in the synagogue on the Sabbath, or 
there, wherever it may be, in the street, or here on the 
shore of the lake, that he speaks to the people who hang 
upon his steps. Ah ! how different his words from 
the rulers and scribes ! Never did man speak as he 
doth ; it seems, indeed, as if we heard the voice of God 
rather than man ! There seems a power of truth in him 
beyond and greater than that of our Scriptures. When 
he hath read from the Prophets or from the Law, and 
then closing the volume hath spoken himself, our hearts 
have burned within us, and we have said to ourselves, 
who can he be who is greater than Moses and the Pro- 
pliets ?” 

“ Who, indeed !” I said, rather to myself than to the 
fisherman. But he heard me and asked eagerly, 

“ Do you then believe in him?” 

“ And what,” I asked, “ do you mean by believing in 
him 1” 

“ Surely,” he answered, “ believe him to be the Mes- 
siah, the prophet foretold as to appear in these latter 
days, and redeem Israel from bondage. How else 
should I mean?” 

I said, I knew not enough yet to warrant me in be- 
lieving that, and asked him if he himself believed. 

He answered and said, “I do believe; yet I know 
that in doing so, I believe rather because I will believe, 


132 


JULIAN. 


than because I find a proof that satisfies me. J esus 
hath not himself said that he is the Christ, so at least 
say some, and if we believe him to be so, we believe in 
more than he himself affirms of himself. Yet cannot I 
help but believe. Not doubting him to be a prophet 
of God, I cannot doubt he will be more than that.” 

“ Yet how can you be so sure,” I asked again, “ that 
he is a prophet of God and no deceiver? There have 
been many deceivers, who have misled the people. Is 
it because of his miracles? But may not evil spirits 
show such power through a man ? or is not magic equal 
to such things ?” 

“ I believe him to be of God,” answered the fisher- 
man, “ partly because of his miracles, and partly be- 
cause of himself. What you say, Sir, is very true, that 
miracles may be wrought by evil spirits, and some, per- 
haps, but not such as those of Jesus, by magic. Where- 
fore when I resorted to Jesus, being at first drawn to 
him, I confess, by the noise made by his wonderful 
works, I gave not my faith until I had heard his doc- 
trine, and found it to be such as was altogether worthy 
of God ; and then observed his character and manner 
of life, and found that they also were altogether god- 
like. Of this agreement and fitness I think we are 
capable to judge ; for, is it reasonable to suppose that 
God hath given man power to know what food is nutri- 
tious to the body and wholesome, and hath not given 
power also to know what truth is nutritious to the soul, 
wholesome and divine, worthy of God to send and man 
to receive ? So, when I found that Jesus was so holy 
in himself, and so divine in the excellence of his doc- 
trines, then I felt sure that his works could be done by 


jUtlAtf . 


133 


no other spirit or power than a divine spirit and power, 
and I believed that he was a Prophet. But what I have 
now said in many words, was perhaps with me as it is, 
I donbt not, with most, the work of, as it were, a mo- 
ment. For so do the countenance, the manner, and the 
first words of Jesus fall upon and convince the soul, 
that a persuasion, that he is honest and true, comes as 
soon as sight and hearing, and the miracle which we 
then witness, we are sure is from God. We then re- 
ceive him as a teacher come from God, and his words 
and doctrine, whatsoever they may be, as the words 
and doctrine of God.” 

“Your faith, then,” I said, “rests on the works of 
Jesus.” 

“ Surely it doth,” he answered ; “ his virtues and his 
doctrine, how excellent soever, could do no more than 
show that he was worthy to have come from God; not 
that he had come from him ; for we know not how far 
the wisdom of a mere man may reach, nor how high his 
virtues may climb ; but we do know that a man cannot 
do the works of Jesus, except God be with him, or else 
the spirit of Beelzebub ; and a good man worketh not 
by the help of an evil spirit.” 

“Yet,” said I, “there are not a few now, as I hear, 
who say that the works of Jesus are done by an evil 
spirit, and not by the spirit of God.” 

“ Among us in Capernaum there are but few such,” 
replied the fisherman, “and they are of the leaders 
among the Pharisees, who themselves, when Jesus first 
appeared, were the first to believe, and to cry out 
Christ! Christ is come! and throng about him with 
12 


JULIAN. 


» 


131 

their knee and mouth worship. Of the people there is 
not one who holdeth him not to be of God.” 

“ But why did the Pharisees and scribes forsake him 
then,” I asked, “ except they were persuaded he was a 
deceiver, and that they had reasons of weight to offer 
against him? Who in the villages of Judea are of a 
better power to judge in such things than they ?” 

“ Many things,” he replied, “ in the doctrines and 
manners of Jesus helped to offend them, and turn them 
against him. He would not flatter them, or bend to 
them, because of their office ; but chose rather to con- 
sort with the good, however humble they might be, and 
even with gentiles and sinners of every kind, so they 
came to him sincerely desiring to listen to him. More- 
over he loosened, instead of drawing closer and tighter 
the bonds of outward worship and rite, teaching that 
God judges by the state of the heart, and not by the 
number of a man’s washings and sacrifices ; and when 
he wished to show the people the difference between a 
painted outside and a pure heart, he would draw a pic- 
ture of a Pharisee relying on the exactness of his ob- 
servances, and of a publican, or a gentile, doing good 
actions, and then trusting to the mercy of God, and 
would justify the latter rather than the former. Openly 
too has he rebuked these Pharisees for what all the 
world knows them to be chargeable with, their covet- 
ousness nnd unjust exactions. All which, and much 
more, that it would weary you, Sir, to hear, enraged 
them, and the very man they were a little while ago ex- 
alting as the Son of God and King of Israel, they now 
upbraid as a child of the devil, and a minister of Satan — 
though Jesus stands among us the same as at first. So 


JULIAN. 


135 


that the people value not their judgment at the weight 
of a fish’s scale, but see plainly enough that it is all a 
piece of malice, and revenge.” 

“ It seems,” said I, “ to be indeed as you say.” 

“ Be assured,” said the other, “ that it is so.” 

“ You may safely believe,” added the younger, “ what 
Simeon has said ; all in Capernaum would confirm it. 
I follow not J esus as the Christ, — nor do I think he will 
ever prove to be that person. He hath no fitness for 
such a trust, as I judge ; but who shall doubt, who hath 
but once seen him, that he is a Son of God, and a Pro- 
phet of Jehovah ? Pie who should deny the works of 
Jesus, would deny the voice of God, through God 
spake in his very ear. Let Herod save Israel from 
Rome, and deliver her, and then shall both John and 
Jesus, as Elijah and Elisha, teach and rebuke, and be to 
the people through their instructions as a savor of life 
to the dying.” 

“ Herod ! forsooth ;” cried the elder with some indig- 
nation. “Who shall be found in Israel to put their 
trust in him 1 I marvel attheemoreand more, Nathaniel, 
that thou shouldst cleave to him — that thou shouldst 
hold to a man of violence and crime. Verily might 
Israel despair were her reliance on any of that wicked 
name. Would that Jesus without delay would declare 
himself and this IPerodian faction would vanish as the 
mists of the lake at the breaking forth of the sun. And 
did he but know what their designs are and how busily 
and secretly they pursue them, sure I am it would move 
him to yield to those who urge him so to do.” 

“ He knows well of the Herodians,” said his compan- 
ion, “ and has warned the people against them and their 


136 


JULIAN. 


leader ; so learned I but yesterday, from one who was 
just from the Feast. But, if I may prophecy, Jesus 
will himself be sooner forsaken, than Herod. I sec not 
any who bind themselves to Jesus but the poorer sort. 
Crowds of these are at his steps, and doubtless they truly 
honor him, but what staff are they, to lean upon in a 
great enterprise such as that of the Messiah.” 

I trow,” replied the elder, “ they will help J esus as 
much and as securely on the way to greatness, as Ilerod’s 
vices will him. What a besotted people are these of 
Judah and Jerusalem, to deem that any good thing can 
prosper in the hands of a bad man ; and who worse than 
Antipas ? Cunning and cruel ! and who at this very time 
is about to make himself doubly an adulterer.” 

I confess, my mother, I felt the blood to tingle in my 
veins, and mount to my cheeks at the honest anger of 
this humble man, while I, looking only at ends, had too 
much blinded myself to the steps I was taking to -reach 
them. 

As the fisherman ended, and his partner was about to 
reply, as it seemed to me with some passion, there came 
one running toward us along the shore, in haste, as if to 
communicate somewhat of moment. 

“The lad who runs,” said the fisherman, “has the 
likeness of my son Judah; yet why should he make 
such speed in the hot sun. It may be that Jesus hath 
returned to Capernaum.” 

In the mean time the lad came up to us, as we still sat 
at our meal. 

“ And what is the news ?” asked the father. 

“ The son of Phasael 1” said the youth, as he could 
(ind his breath. 


JULIAN. 


137 


“ Is he dead ?” cried Nathaniel, “ he lay this morning 
at the point of death.” 

“ Not so,” said the other, “ but alive and well.” 

“ Hath Jesus returned then?” 

“ No, yet hath he healed him, himself being at Cana.” 

“ Friend,” said the fisherman, “ go with us, let us be- 
hold this wonder.” 

Binding on my parcel, and seizing my staff I hastened 
along with them. As we approached and entered the 
village we saw, by the commotion and the running to 
and fro, that a strange thing had happened, in which the 
whole people were alike concerned. All were forsaking 
their employments and hurrying in one direction to have 
the testimony of their own eyes, to the wonderful thing 
that had been reported. When we arrived at the dwell- 
ing of Phasael — an officer of Herod’s government — we 
could by no means approach it by reason of the throng, 
for it seemed that the whole town had run together into 
one place. But though we could not obtain near access 
to the house, yet could we easily behold the young man 
who had been cured, and who now came forth upon the 
house-top and showed himself to the people, and we could 
hear the declaration of his parents, that at the same hour 
that Jesus had spoken the word in Cana, the young man’s 
fever had left him. We were filled with awe, my 
mother, as you may believe, at the recital and the ob- 
servation of such things. I felt as if then and there God 
was among us and around us in some extraordinary 
manifestations of his presence. In low tones the people 
expressed their wonder one to another, and then in si- 
lence withdrew again from the place to their homes. 
The fishermen urging upon me, as the day was now 
12 * 


138 


J ULIAN. 


drawn to its close, to tarry with them in their humble 
abode, I hesitated not, but accepting, with many thanks, 
their hospitality, accompanied them to their dwelling. 

When the evening had come on, many of the neigh 
bors gathered together with us, and the hours were 
passed in much further conversation and dispute con- 
cerning John, Ilerod, and Jesus. 

At the early dawn I was awakened by the host, and 
after partaking with him and his wife and children of 
the morning repast, set forward on my way, returning 
not as I had come, but, at the instance of the fisherman, 
by the way of villages lying removed, from the lake, 
among which were Cana and Nazareth. “ For thy pleas- 
ure merely,” said he, “ I could wish thee to keep ever 
on the shores of Genesareth, where thine eye can dwell 
upon finer things than can be found elsewhere in Judea, 
and where thou canst behold both the drawing in of the 
fishermen’s nets, with the passage of their boats along 
the lake, and also feast upon the rich dainties they fetch 
up from the lower waters. Whose life shall compare 
with a fisherman’s on the lake of Galilee 1 But because 
I would have thee see Jesus and hear him, for thine own 
sake and Judea’s, I commend to thee this other road ; 
and it will be strange if either at Nazareth or Cana, thou 
do not find him, or else at some point on the highway. 
Take with thee, friend, the counsel of one who has seen 
many years, and forsake the society and the cause of 
Herod. He cannot aid the cause of God in one way, 
who hinders it in another.” 

I replied to the fisherman, that I would not forget his 
counsel though I could not promise to follow it, and 
bidding him farewell, addressed myself to the pleasures 


JULIAN. 


139 

of the road. These I found to be well worth the seek- 
ing. The morning air was cool and invigorating, and 
the earth in all directions burdened with a vegetation 
uninjured by droughts, which in this climate often de- 
stroy the hopes of the husbandman, and promising the 
richest returns to the granary. Indeed the earlier grains 
are already ripe, and the fields yielding before the sickle 
of the reaper. Frequent villages and scattered dwell- 
ings separated by groves, or by an occasional barren 
track of rock and sand, afforded every variety of object 
which the mind could desire; and much additional in- 
formation of every sort did I gather from those whom I 
overtook on the way, and walked and conversed with, 
or from those by whom I was entertained in the villages. 
The highways were filled w ith persons who, after resort- 
ing to Jesus for many days that he had remained in Cana 
and the towns round about, were, now that he had de- 
parted for another region, returning to their homes. 

From conversations with many of these, 1 learned that 
Jesus having left Cana, had gone toward the sea-coast; 
but that while in this neighborhood he had performed 
many miracles by which the people had been astonished, 
and had been brought to believe in him, notwithstanding 
so many things make against him. They were per- 
suaded he would yet show himself to be the Christ. 
They were simple country people, w r ith whom I for the 
most part talked, and they could give no better or other 
reason for the faith they were disposed to rest in him, 
than that they thought him a good man, w T ho would not 
deceive those who came to him, and it would be a great 
deception if he raised in them a belief that he was the 
Christ and suffered it to take root in them, when he was 


140 


JULIAN. 


not that great Prophet. They had heard many -things 
indeed from him, which they could not understand, and 
many things which, if they heard them aright, made it 
indeed not easy to see how he should he the Christ who 
was to come into the world, seeing they were in oppo- 
sition to the Law, and placed the Romans and all others 
as high in the favor of God as the Jew ; moreover, he 
seemed not in any respect to justify such acts, as those 
by which the kingdom of God and of Israel must be es- 
tablished, if it ever be established. Yet, whenever he 
had spoken of righteousness, and what pertains to a 
man’s life and his soul, they had comprehended him, and 
acknowledged a wisdom surpassing that of man and be- 
longing only to one who, like Aaron, was the mouth- 
piece of God ; so that they still believed. Among other 
questions which I put. to them, I asked, if he had warned 
the people against Herod. They said that he had not 
failed to do so ; he seemed to know well what every 
body guesses, that Herod is working in secret through- 
out Israel, although it be so that no one can point to any 
open act of his, and that Herod himself seems to bo 
employed in quite other affairs, with getting him a new 
wife, and preparing to make war with the king of Ara- 
bia. Jesus spoke as if these w'ere not his real designs ; 
but there were quite others which he was aiming to carry 
on — to favor which he was covertly using every means 
to gain the hearts of the people. When I further asked 
what they themselves supposed such designs to be, they 
hesitated not, but believed that he was aiming at the 
throne of Israel. And they could not doubt that Jesus 
entertained the same opinion, and that it was to put the 
nation on its guard against him that he had spoken. 


JULIAN. 


141 


These, and other things which I learned on the way of 
such as I fell in with, greatly increased my desire to see 
Jesus, and my sorrow that he had turned from Gina to- 
ward the seacoast, instead of the East and the Jordan, as 
I had hoped he would do. I, however, kept on my way 
in the direction I had first marked out, as I could not 
prolong my absence without failing in my promises to 
Herod. 

As the day declined I drew near to Nazareth, which, 
lying to the south of high hills, was not visible from the 
quarter in which I approached it, until winding about 
among many valleys and narrow passes, and last cross- 
ing a precipitous ridge, I at length suddenly came upon 
it, situated nearly at the foot of a hill, or rather where 
its last slope falls by sharp pitches into the plain, but 
having a mountainous region shutting it in on every side, 
and lofty abrupt precipices rising directly in its rear. 
The scene presented to the eye objects well calculated to 
delight and impress the mind of one who should dwell 
among them, no part of it being tame and flat, but either 
grand through the wildness of many of the hills, where 
no vegetation could fix a root by reason of the soil, rocky 
and worn away by descending torrents, or else beautiful 
on account of the diligent cultivation of the husbandman, 
or the groves of every variety of tree and shrub, which 
covered the plain, and flourished as it seemed with 
redoubled luxuriance, as a return for the riches of which 
the annual rains had robbed the surrounding heights and 
spread around their roots. 

The sun was not far above the hills on the western 
side of this happy valley, shedding his last rays on tower, 
aud village, and bleak hill top, as I entered, weary 


142 


JULIAN. 


with the hot and dusty way, the outskirts of the town. 
The houses of the rural population grew more frequent, 
as I drew near, each with its cultivated ground near it, a 
part always covered with the fig, the olive, and the date. 
At the doors or seated beneath the surrounding trees, 
were the inhabitants engaged in the various arts of do- 
mestic life, or else, their labor for the day being done, 
reposing in the shade or sporting with children, who here 
as everywhere seemed freely given of nature as man’s 
best solace, and most effectual teachers. One of these 
humble dwellings especially drew my attention from the 
greater pleasantness of its situation, though otherwise it 
differed little from those that were in its neighborhood. 
An olive orchard covered it on one side, fig trees stood 
thickly around, and almost was the form of the cottage 
concealed by vines which had grown over it, burying it 
in a profusion of leaf and flower. But what chiefly fast- 
ened my gaze and made me here pause that I might put 
the inquiries necessary to my further progress, was the 
form and countenance of one who seemed the mother of 
the family, and who sat at the distaff in the entrance of 
the dwelling — younger members of the household and 
children sitting or playing around. For the face was 
one, which, as it was turned upon me on my approach, 
at once inspired confidence as well as raised admiration. 
It was not a matter of choice whether I should accost 
her, since before I had made any determination concern- 
ing what I should do, I found myself drawn away from 
the path I had been pursuing, and standing before her. 
Then, it was only with hesitating utterance, that I asked 
concerning the village, the distance thereto, and made 
such other inquiries as were needful. She had risen, as 


JULIAN. 


143 


f spoke, moving from where she had sat, as if to make 
way for my entrance within the house. Hardly -waiting 
for me to iinish my inquiries, she said,— 

“You arc already weary with the dust and travel of 
the road, and it is yet many a rood to the heart of the 
town, enter then, and rest here and be refreshed ; when 
thou hast washed and eaten then thou shalt go on or tarry 
as thou wilt.” 

With many thanks I accepted these hospitable offers. 
My sandals were soon removed, the vessels for washing 
made ready, loose and flowing garments adapted to this 
hot region, woven of the lightest threads, yet of a plain 
and homely material, were brought, and in no long time 
I was again vigorous, it seemed to me, as at early 
dawn. 

As the table was now spread by youthful hands and 
covered with the food, easily prepared, of these regions, 
the mother said, “ Our fathers, Sir, when they dwelt 
in tents, never shut the door against the stranger ; the 
hot cake and the seethed kid ever smoked upon their 
board. It is little for us to do to imitate them who 
dwell in fixed habitations.” 

“Yet it were not reason,” I answered, “that from 
their descendants of this age should be exacted the hos- 
pitality which distinguished them, seeing that in their 
time the people were few in number, and a stranger or 
foreign trafficker was rarely seen, and when seen he was 
indeed very heartily welcome, inasmuch as he brought 
news of foreign parts, of which knowledge could be 
had in no other way. As much was received as 
given.” 


144 


JULIAN. 


“ S.x saying, Sir, you take away from our fathers tho 
virtue of their actions.” 

“ Not so,” I answered. “ It was not the less virtuous 
that it was sometimes and by accident rewarded, else the 
care of a mother, who sees the fruit of her toil in the vir- 
tues of her child, would lose its merit. Many are our 
acts which carry their reward along with them, and we 
must forbear the acts or consent to do them with the 
knowledge that a reward will follow. But surely this is 
different- from the case of the Pharisee, who prays that 
he may be seen, or gives alms when he would withhold 
them but for some prospect of praise or advantage.” 

“ You speak the truth,” replied the woman ; “ were it 
not so our hope of Heaven would turn all our goodness 
into sin, or make it nothing worth. But to hope for 
heaven we cannot help if we would. — I marvel why my 
husband and sons come not; it is the hour of supper. 
But their tarrying shall bring no delay to thee ; draw 
near and eat.” — 

But while she yet spoke her husband entered accom- 
panied by his sons, as if returning from the labors of 
the day, and when they had first washed, placed them- 
selves also at their board, the daughters serving. I was 
bid heartily welcome to their humble roof by the father 
and his sons, as I had been before by the mother and her 
daughters, and I had passed but a little while conversing 
of such things as offered, ere I felt from the simple kind- 
ness that marked all their words and demeanor, that I 
was among such as both feared God and loved their 
neighbor. As soon as it was learned that I had come 
from the lake and through Cana, the mother asked if I 


JTTLIAS. 


145 


liad seen J esus in Cana, or in either of the villages in the 
road. 

I answered that I had not, although it was in the hope 
to fmd him, that I had departed from Genesareth on my 
return to Tiberias. 

“Are you then,” she asked again with eagerness, 
“ one of his followers, and do you believe in him V 1 

I said that I was by no means a follower or believer, 
although on the way I had fallen in with many such. 

“ 1 had hoped,” she replied, “ that you believed, for it 
seems as if your judgment would be honest.” But after 
a moment’s pause she added, “ you have said that you 
are from Jordan and the neighborhood of Beth-Harem, 
what think they in those regions ?” 

I said that there, as all along on the borders of the 
lake, the greater part of the people believed in him ; or 
stood waiting and ready to believe as soon as some sign 
more distinct and plain should be given them, that he 
is indeed the Person for whom they look. But I could 
not deny that for the reason that such signs had been 
delayed, many were losing their trust in him, giving in 
to the opinions of the leaders among the Pharisees, 
who were not only opposed to him, but exceeding 
bitter. 

“ 1 do not see,” replied the mother, “ why they should 
be bitter against him or seek his harm ; he himself 
surely does no one harm, but is gentle toward all, save 
toward those whom he well knows to be hypocrites, 
and is fall of benevolent deeds. I never will doubt 
that God is with him.” 

“It certainly,” I here said, “will make against his 
success with the people, if it be true, as has been lately 

Tol. II.— 13 k 


140 


JULIAN. 


rumored, that you of Nazareth do not believe in him, 
and more than that, that you have even attempted his 
destruction.” 

“It ought not,” said the mother quickly, “it ought 
not to make against him any more than it ever should 
against a good man, that the wicked rail. Such railing 
is to his honor. It is on the part of the Nazarenes 
nought but envy.” 

“ But,” I rejoined, “ the people of distant places say, 
if they of Nazareth, who have known him from his 
youth up, reject him, how can any believe'?” 

“ And surely,” said one of the sons, “ they said it with 
reason.” 

“I cannot think so, Judas,” rejoined his mother. 
“The people of Nazareth hold it ill, that one of them- 
selves, no better and no richer they say than them- 
selves, should set himself up as a teacher. They will 
not listen to such an one. Who were they who set 
upon him in the synagogue, and would willingly, in 
their rage, have cast him from off the precipice, but 
persons whom we well know, and well know to have 
been moved by no better spirit than I have named. 
The rumor was a true one which you heard, Sir, but it 
would not sway your mind against Jesus, did you know 
better the heart of these men of Nazareth; Surely, me- 
thinks, to deserve their hatred is to be more secure of 
the favor of God.” 

“But,” said I, “it is even reported, and I myself 
heard it at Capernaum, that the family of Jesus, his 
parents and brethren, believe not in him, but are as the 
other inhabitants of the place, which I confess filled mo 
with astonishment, and caused me to think otherwise 


JULIAN. 


147 


than I had been inclined to do of those who, in other 
parts of the country, turn away from him.” 

“ Do you not know then/’ said the father of the 
family, “ that we arc the parents of Jesus, and these his 
brethren and sisters ?” 

“Truly, I knew it not,” I replied, “but I am rejoiced 
that a happy chance has thrown me among those whom 
it was my chief purpose in journeying through Nazareth 
to seek out. I bless God, who has guided me to your 
roof, for, I doubt not, it is highly favored of him. I am 
not, as I have declared already, a believer in your son, 
unless he may be called a believer who, though he has 
not seen, nevertheless believes in his honesty and truth, 
that he is all that thus far he has claimed to be. Every 
thing that I have heard from the very first has gone tp 
persuade me that God is with him, and that it is : with 
his spirit and power that he is inspired.” 

“ And deeper down in your heart would your faith 
be,” said the mother of Jesus, “ if you yourself knew 
him of whom we speak.” 

“ Nevertheless,” said I, “ I perceive from what you 
have already said, that the rumor of which I have 
spoken is true, that not only do the inhabitants of Naza- 
reth reject Jesus, but that some of his own family re- 
ject, or, at least, doubt concerning him. This I confess 
amazes me.” 

“ We would all,” said the young man who had spoken 
before, “ willingly believe if we could. Yet do not im- 
agine that the feelings of .the people of Nazareth, which 
my mother has truly, as I believe, ascribed to them, arc 
wholly ours. It is with them envy and indignation, 
that a mere mechanic, and the son of one, should pro 


148 


JULIAN. 


fess a wisdom beyond that of the scribes, and assert 
claims so high, and an authority above that of the Phari- 
sees, the Rulers, and the Council. He has been so long 
their townsman and fellow-laborer, that they cannot at 
once receive him as a teacher and a ruler.” 

“ I can understand the feeling,” I said. 

“Jesus himself,” continued Judas, “gave it the right 
interpretation, when, as he left the synagogue, he said, 
a prophet is honored everywhere else rather than in his 
own town, and among his own family and friends.” 

“ That,” said I, “ I doubt not, is according to our na- 
ture.” 

“ But,” replied the brother, “believe me when I affirm 
that it is not this sentiment alone nor chiefly, that gov- 
erns his parents or brethren.” 

I said quickly, “ I was sure he spoke the truth. In 
your very faces,” I added, “ I behold the signs, which 
makes such feelings impossible to you.” 

“ The Lord reward you,” said the mother. 

“Yes,” resumed the brother, “ the Lord bless you for 
your good opinion. We have by many been reviled, 
but we can think no otherwise than our own minds will 
allow. We should not be blamed for opinions which 
are forced upon us against our will and our old affec- 
tions.” 

“ Why then,” I said, “ if it be not to ask too much, 
do you hesitate to give a full faith to J esus 1 I would 
fain know whether the same things weigh with you as . 
with others, in other parts of Judea.” 

“ We have not doubted hitherto,” resumed the brother, 
“that Jesus is inspired of God. We do not, as others, 
wickedly give the wonders he performs to spirits of the 


JULIAN. 


MO 


dead, or to Beelzebub, of whom and w r hose power we 
believe nothing, nor in truth do many of those who 
make such assertions. The whole manner of his life, as 
well as the strange events at his birth, convince us that 
he is highly favored of God, and by him reserved to 
some mighty work.” 

“ What is reported then of his birth, and we have all 
heard, may be received as true?” I said, turning as I 
spoke towards the mother of J esus. 

Her countenance, radiant with faith and love, beam- 
ing with all the marks of conscious truth, gave silent 
answer to what I had asked. Never had I beheld in 
mortal woman what for more than mortal beauty and a 
certain divine charm, seemed so like a blessed angel of 
God. The silence of all, as their eyes, like mine fasten- 
ed upon her, also gave answer to my inquiry. 

After a brief pause, Judas continued ; “ What it is 
that of late has perplexed us and caused us against our 
nature and our desires to doubt, has been the strange- 
ness of the doctrines which Jesus has preached, and the 
strangeness of his conduct. In good truth he is no 
longer a Jew — he is rather anything else — and can we 
hold him longer with an unwavering persuasion to be a 
prophet of God to his people, who sets aside the law 
God himself gave to that people, to be an everlasting 
covenant between him and them ?” 

“ Yet have I been told,” I said, “ that he attended both 
upon the services of the synagogue and at the feasts in 
Jerusalem ; that he of late went up to the Passover and 
the Pentecost.” 

“ You say true,” replied Judas, “ it is so as you have 
heard. But nevertheless that is true also which I have 
13 * 


150 


JULIAN. 


affirmed. lie preaches indeed in the synagogue, but 
what preaches he? The Law 1 ? The Prophets? ihcir 
excellence and everlasting dominion ? — the claims of Is- 
rael to the favor of God before all other ? Not so. But 
in the face of all this, his own authority he sets up 
against that of Moses — the Prophets shall pass away or 
be changed — the Kingdom of God shall be thrown open 
to Gentile as well as J ew ! Is it to be supposed that a 
man from God would come and overthrow the word and 
the work of Him who sent him ? What can we say, 
what can we do ? It was hearing such things, as well as 
envy, that filled the men of Nazareth with rage and 
drove them mad against him.” 

“ What make you then, I asked, of the miracles of 
Jesus? They surely show him to be sent of God.” 

“ This also perplexes us,” resumed the brother. “ He 
does the works of God, while he assails to overthrow it, 
the truth of God. How, we ask can these things be ? 
As we judge, our allegiance to Moses and to God forbid 
us to believe.” 

“ Not quite so,” interrupted the father, with a voice 
of mild rebuke; “Judas is carried away by his zeal. 
We refuse not to believe; we only say that we now 
waver and are perplexed. We cannot reconcile the one 
with the other, the miracles that he doth, and the doc- 
trine that he preaches, yet we trust to be able to 
do so.” 

“ But,” said I, “ do not the miracles that he does, sup- 
posing his power to be that of God, and not of a 
devil,”— 

“ Oh, we doubt not that his power is of God,” they 
all cried, interrupting me ; “ so holy and just a person, 


JULIAN. 


151 


whom all love and honor who know him, could receive 
nothing from, and hold no communion with, a wicked 
spirit.” 

“ Then,” I continued, “ do not his miracles which he 
works by God’s power, show that his doctrine must bo 
approved of God 1 \V ould not such power be withdrawn 
if it were made to substantiate aught at variance with 
his will — howsoever it may differ from truths previously 
delivered ?” 

“ Surely,” said the mother, “ the young man reasons 
aright. How shall he preach contrary to the truth of 
God, who hath power to do the works of God ? It may 
be that by the mouth of Jesus he would declare some 
new truth, not such as shall be in violation of the Law 
of Moses, but in addition to it ; and truly, as I think, 
there is much that passes among us as the law given of 
God, which were perhaps better termed the false conclu- 
sions of vain and mistaken men.” 

“ Ah, my mother,” said Judas, “ thou art carried away 
by thy love to say things contrary to the truth ; here 
now wouldst thou cause the Law, even the Law of God, 
to veil itself before the wisdom of thy son Jesus ! I should 
fear to do that. Mayhap thou dost still hold him to bo 
even the Christ ?” 

“ Nay, nay, Judas,” exclaimed his sisters, “ say not 
so.” 

“ Forbid him not,” said the mother, “ I do believe 
him to be the Christ. Yet ask me not for a reason for 
this faith; for alas! I cannot give it. Nay more than 
that, Judas, many things that he hath said and done I 
comprehend not ; I can by no means resolve. Yet can- 
not I help but believe. The truest faith, is methinks, of 


152 


JULIAN. 


the heart ; but it is as much without reason, as a moth- 
er’s love of her child.” 

“ And it may be, my mother,” replied Judas, “ that 
your faith shall in the end, without its reasons, prove 
truer than ours, with so many which we judge so strong. 
And if it would bring a greater happiness to the mother, 
to behold her son on Messiah’s throne, may her happi- 
ness be made complete, if it be the will of God. But 
doubtless to such as judge on the grounds which the 
prophets furnish, no one thing appears so difficult to be- 
lieve as that. For save the power to do wonderful 
works, a power which has been bestowed upon many, 
there seems no correspondence whatsoever between him 
and the Christ. What do we, what do the people of Is- 
rael look for in the Christ] Verily it is one and the 
same thing in every mind, a Redeemer, and a deliverer 
from our bondage ; who shall then reign our King and 
Prophet over a kingdom without limits as without end. 
This is what the prophets have taught, and this is what 
the people believe and wait for with impatience. Is Je- 
sus such an one ] Are there in him signs that mark the 
Conqueror and King ] Is there in him aught that savors 
of Judas Maccabeus] or even of Judas of Galilee] 
Nay, can one so much as think of Jesus doing the deeds 
that must be done when Israel shall arise and enter into 
her glory ] Has he not indeed, when teaching the peo- 
ple, declared things which, if they be rightly understood, 
make it but a sin and an offence to seek dominion and 
to aspire after honor and seats of pride and power ] lie 
commends the humble, the meek, the peaceful, and such 
as are content to submit and serve, taking heed only to 
their souls, to keep them holy in the sight of God, re- 


JULIAN. 


153 


buking the contentious and ambitious, the loveis of place 
and authority. How shall such an one be the Christ of 
Israel 1 Such precepts consist not with the character 
and deeds of the Son of David. They agree well with 
the character of Jesus, and no other precepts should I 
ever look to hear from his lips, and so should we all 
say”— 

“ Yes, surely we should say it,” fell from all. 

“ But,” continued Judas, “ they agree not, as I have 
said with the office and work of the Son of David.” 

As J udas ended, the others were silent — the mother 
of Jesus buried as it seemed in many thoughts of which 
no others might be sharers. Presently as the supper 
was ended we went out and sat beneath the vines, that 
hung over the dwelling and stretched also from tree to 
tree ; the warm air and the bright heavens, thickset with 
the stars of evening, inviting us where such pleasures 
could be enjoyed in addition to those of friendly dis- 
course. Here then, when we were seated, the father and 
his sons with me, I sought to renew the conversation that 
had been broken off, being desirous to learn what I could 
from those who must possess in many things a more 
exact knowledge than can be found elsewhere, and who 
appeared not less disposed to impart what they knew or 
thought, than I was to listen to their words. 

But as I had already gathered so much from them con- 
cerning themselves and their relations to Jesus, I began 
our conversation by informing them of my own life and 
opinions, not withholding from them my conviction of 
what I believed was Herod’s part in the present affairs 
of Judea, though by no means communicating other 
things respecting him and myself, which I was bjund 


154 


JULIAN. 


not to reveal. What I liad said concerning ITerod was 
already well known to them, as being generally known 
or suspected throughout the land, yet, nothing coming 
abroad, however, with such distinctness as to give occa- 
sion of alarm to Pilate. With Tiberius Herod remains 
in highest favor as a fast friend to Rome, as he has ever 
been to Roman customs. To his hostility to John and 
Jesus, he takes care to give the color of friendship and 
zeal for Rome, and the security of his possessions. So 
that of designs inimical on his own part they think not. 

When 1 had ended, Judas said, “ Herod is the bitterest 
foe of Jesus; not openly so, but secretly through those 
whom he employs to beset his steps, and inflame against 
him the Pharisees and the people. While he supposed 
Jesus to make no pretensions and lay no elaim to the 
office and title of Messiah, he did little against him ; but 
since it is affirmed that Jesus has declared, not only aS 
at first, that the kingdom is at hand, but that it has come* 
and that he is the expected Prince, and that by his dis- 
ciples it is believed that he is so, Herod has become 
more active, and as we just learn is resolved upon his 
destruction. There are those in Nazareth and in Jerusa- 
lem who, together with a Priest in Beth-Harem, are 
in league with each other to seek occasions when the 
passions of the people may be roused against him, and 
a tumult raised, in the confusion of which it will be 
easy, they suppose, to effect their purpose.” 

In what Judas said I was astonished at two things, 
that Herod was actively employing his agents in oppo- 
sition to Jesus, and that Jesus was now known to have 
declared himself the Messiah. As to the first, Herod 
lit Tiberias had said that he did not hold it needful to 


JULIAN. 


155 


do aught against Jesus, seeing that the anger of the 
Pharisees, -whom he rebuked with such severity, would 
do for him all he should desire to be done. He must 
therefore have deceived me, or else have suddenly 
changed his purposes. I was also surprised to learn 
that Jesus had with such explicitness avowed himself 
the Messiah, that it had come to be known as a truth to 
be relied upon. For hitherto, although the people were 
clear in their belief that he would prove to be that per- 
son, and would so declare himself; yet from him they 
had been able to obtain only obscure and doubtful hints. 
The fa'^j that he had now confessed himself the Christ, 
it seemed to me, would decide his fate one way or 
another in a short time. 

“ That has now happened,” I said to J udas, “ which 
but a little while ago at supper I was about to suppose 
the occurrence of, and ask your opinion concerning it. 
Jesus acknowledges himself the Messiah ; but with this 
declaration is there any change in his doctrine, or his 
appearance V ’ 

“There is not,” said Judas. 

“ And what then,” 1 asked, “will be the effect of such 
declaration V’ 

“It is not difficult,” replied the other, “to foresee. 
It will cause him to be rejected and denied by all Israel 
as one man ! How by possibility can it be otherwise 1 
Hitherto while himself has made no such declaration, 
but it has only been made for him, the reason urged 
against him has been, that he. agrees not in his character 
and purposes with the Prophets. But all have deemed, 
who have persisted to have faith in him, that soon as he 
should assume the Name, then would he burst forth in 


150 


JtTLlAST. 


the splendor becoming the Son of David, and the King 
of Israel. The miracles he has done, and the excellence 
of his character and his teaching, have retained the mul- 
titude in their faith or hope, that he would not disap- 
point them in the end. And sure they were, that when 
the great and blessed day should arrive, that he should 
proclaim his approaching honors, the divine powers he 
is entrusted with would lie put forth in surrounding 
himself and his followers with all the pomp and glory 
of a Kingdom, whose founder and Father is God.” 

“ Yet,” said I, “ no such things have happened.” 

“They have not. He continues as he was. He still 
wanders about the land as if without home or friends, 
meanly apparelled, wearied with the way, and exhausted 
through want of food and drink, and as night approaches 
sleeping ofttimes beneath the open sky, or throwing 
himself upon the charities of those who are poor as he ; 
consorting, moreover, by night and by day with those 
whom the Chiefs of the land look upon as little better 
than the offscouring of the earth, though indeed their 
chief fault is, that like us, and like Jesus, they are poor 
and of no repute, or like us and all, save Jesus himself, 
sinners.” 

“ And you would say,” I exclaimed, “ shall Israel re- 
ceive such an one as her King ?” 

“ That is what I would say,” he answered. “ It can 
never be. Notwithstanding he may still perform his 
wonders, and notwithstanding he may remain as he has 
ever been, spotless in innocence as the lamb or the 
dove, and yet wise as the serpent, astonishing 11s and 
the multitudes by a wisdom such as we find not even in 
the Prophets — notwithstanding this and much more 


JULIAN. 


157 


than this, will the people reject him. And so ought 
they to do.” 

“ And you ?” I said. 

“Alas,” interposed the father, “what can we do? 
We would fain believe, but how can we do so, if we 
would remain Jews! In his goodness we believe, for 
never was there a holier on earth ; in his wisdom we 
believe, for verily the wisdom of the Most High seems 
to be his ; in his powers we believe, as powers which 
God has bestowed; in his mission from God we be- 
lieve, for no one could do what he doth and teach as he 
doth, except God were with him. And more we would 
believe, if we could, but we see not how it can be. 
While he claimed but to be a prophet, we could admit 
his claims. But now that he claims to be the Christ 
and King of Israel, we admit them not, and how were it 
possible to do so ? We are now perplexed and divid- 
ed.” 

“ Our mother,” said Judas, “ has not yet learned what 
I have now said, that Jesus is known to have claimed 
for himself the Kingdom. Great will be her grief and 
amazement, for with unfailing faith has she waited for 
tbe time when he should declare himself, and in the 
same hour shine forth in the glory that would then be- 
come him, and seal him the Anointed.” 

“ Iler faith,” i said, “ will not yield I am sure. Her 
love is so strong it will teach her to confide rather in 
him, than in her own capacity, to judge in what relates 
to the dispensations of God.” 

“That is true,” said Judas. And it will be the same 
affection, with reverence of his character and virtues, 
tha: will cause the common people to adhere to his 
Vol. II.— 14 


158 


JULIAN. 


cause, after, in every reasonable view, all hope is ex- 
tinct. His gentleness towards all, his compassion foi 
the suffering, together with his power; to relieve those 
whom he pities, his love even for the sinner, for whom 
he ever seems to feel more than for the most righteous, 
seeking to turn him from his errors ; the wisdom of his 
discourse, which he adapts by parables and feigned 
events to the simplest understanding ; above all, the 
plain, intelligible doctrines he propounds so contrary to 
the dark sayings of the scribes, — all these things bind 
the people to him, so that in spite of long delay and 
many adverse signs, in spite of much they may not be 
able to explain, or reconcile in his sayings and his ap- 
pearance with his claims, they will cleave to him and 
throng his steps. They love, and they will believe. 
Whatsoever may chance, there will be some w'ho will 
never forsake him. Others will think and compare 
more, and will at least wait — before they give their 
faith, and before they resist and oppose. As for the 
Rulers and the leaders among the Pharisees, they will 
now have all the pretext they can desire to assail him. 
They will not be content, like many, to sit still and suf- 
fer time to unfold what it may — which is our part— 
they will seek to visit upon him the* penalties of what 
they will call his presumption and blasphemy.” 

‘‘ I can easily understand that it will be as you have 
said with the people, for 1 am sure it would be so with 
myself could I follow him as they are doing. Love 
would take place of reason, and I should have no longer 

. ' ' o 

power to discern between truth and error, so that it 
must doubtless be safer for the cause of truth that I, and 
others indeed, remain aloof where the eye shall keep its 


J UtrAN. 


159 


ancorrupted sight, undazzled by an object too glorious 
for it to behold, save from a distant point. Yet has it 
long been my warm desire to seek Jesus and follow him, 
if not as a disciple, as one who would learn of any 
teacher the truth concerning God and virtue, life and 
death ; and it is of these, as I hear, that he chiefly dis- 
courses.” 

“ It is as you have been told,” replied Judas ; “ to hear 
his teaching it would not be supposed that thoughts of 
dominion and a kingdom had ever entered his mind. 
Of such things, things which the multitudes who throng 
him never forget or lose from their thoughts, he seems 
not so much as to dream. Can he then be the Christ 1 ? 
Nay, not only of such things does he never appear to 
think or speak, but such things as are most opposite doth 
he take most pains to commend, but which can have but 
little attraction to the kind of people, who most follow 
him, and who are hoping, (against hope,) that one day, 
sooner or later, they shall reap a reward for their fidelity, 
in the new kingdom. Sure I am, he will have no such 
reward to bestow, even upon those, whom he has chosen 
as his nearest friends, and to whom he commits all his 
thoughts — much less upon others.” 

“ What then,” I asked, “ think you it is in his purpose 
to bring to pass, if he aim not at any of the ends we be- 
lieve to be those of the Christ ?” 

“ Truly I cannot tell,” answered Judas. “ He speaks 
indeed of establishing a kingdom, but he seems not to 
mean any such kingdom as we see at present in the 
world, but if any, one of truth and holiness, where all' 
should obey the Law, and he should reign over them in 
some new maimer. No one, however, pretends to un- 


160 


JULIAN. 


derstand some of the things he sets forth, how 3Ver sim- 
ple others may be. That is admitted even by his disci- 
ples. That he hath, as I have said, declared that he is 
the Messiah, in plain and clear terms, I do not believe, 
but only that it has been gathered from phrases, which 
he hath employed. All, Sir, it can with certainty be 
affirmed of the objects which Jesus has before him, is 
that he aims to increase the happiness of the people by 
teaching them the fear of God, by showing them by the 
manner in which he himself lives, how they ought to live, 
by using the wonderful power which God has entrusted 
to him for their benefit, and by exposing the hypocrisies 
of the Pharisees, and their perversions of the Law, their 
false maxims and formal and heartless worship.” 

“ These are objects,” I said, “ well worth living for, 
and, if need be, dying for, and though Jesus should not 
be the Christ, yet must he be esteemed one of the chief 
of the prophets of God.” 

“ And a pity it is,” added a younger brother, “ that 
Jesus will not be content with this nor aim at more. 
Then doubtless would he carry with him the hearts of 
the greater and better part of the people, and make many 
useful changes in the doctrine and ceremonies of our 
worship, which we all know have been greatly corrupted 
by the traditions descended from former times. He 
would no doubt still enrage the Pharisees and the Jeru- 
salem priests, but the rest would uphold him.” 

“ I know r not that,” replied Judas. “ The people are 
well satisfied wfith the Law as it is, and has descended 
to us from our fathers. It may not be in all things as it 
w’as in the time of Moses — somew’hat may have V een 
added, and somewhat may have been altered ; but it is 


JULIAN. 


161 


what we have all grown up under and prospered by, and 
why should it be changed ?” 

“ We have truly grown up under it,” said the other ; 
“ but we seem not so plainly to have prospered, unless 
slavery and sin may be called prosperity. Who knows 
not the wickedness of the priests and rulers, and their 
abuses of the poor by their perversions of the Law, 
whereby they enrich themselves and grind the widow and 
the orphan to the dust 1 ? Truly did I rejoice when Jesus 
cleared the temple at the Passover of another set of 
rogues, whose life it is to sit and suck the blood of the 
poor. God prosper him while he strikes at such ; and 
while he does no more, and lays claims to no more, God 
will prosper him. That he is the Christ 1 do not believe, 
nor, as I judge, ever shall.” 

“.All doctrine and all law,” replied Judas, “will be 
ever abused and perverted more or less ; in the case of 
some ignorantly, and of some with wicked intent, but 
from such evil we should not be rescued by overthrow- 
ing the Law itself. I would that Jesus should neither 
overthrow the Law, nor, as he doth, diminish its au- 
thority, but rather content himself with changing the 
manners and lives of the people, and teaching them the 
fear of God.” 

Saith the father, — “ My children, let us not question 
the ways of one whom surely without shame we may 
hold as wiser than ourselves, since we doubt not that 
God in very deed speaks through him. We may wholly 
approve, moreover, of the conduct of which we see the 
whole and comprehend it, while, when but a little is seen, 
we may judge it evil. With Jesus it is, as with the 
providence of God. We confide in Jehovah that all 
14* l 


162 


JULIAN. 


shall be well, though now and here in our human dark- 
ness and ignorance we can penetrate his ways hardly 
more than the blind. Let us put our trust also in Jesus, 
nor judge until we are able to see whither all is tending, 
and what its purpose and issue are. The Pharisees are 
enraged that he teaches in some things contrary to their 
interpretations of the Law, but others think that the new 
sayings of Jesus are in a nearer accordance with the true 
sense of Moses and the Prophets. Some, as here in 
Nazareth, are offended and ready to destroy him in that 
he, who is but the son of a carpenter, should pretend to 
teach as a prophet — among whom we also have been 
numbered — nor will they for this reason believe in the 
reality of works which their own eyes behold, but deny 
that they are done at all, or give them to Magic or to 
Devils. Where so many differ, how shall we at once 
discern the truth 1 Let us be patient and wait.' 1 

“ It were well,” I said, “ if all could be persuaded to 
obey the advice you have given. But now that Jesus 
has suffered it to be known that he holds himself not only 
as an inspired teacher, but the Messiah of our nation, no 
human counsel and no mortal arm can stay the rage that 
will fill many souls. If the men of Nazareth were in- 
flamed to so high a pitch of rage, that he whom they 
knew to be but as one of themselves should teach them, 
how much rather will multitudes of the leaders of the 
people, hungering and thirsting for the honey and manna, 
the wine and milk of the new Kingdom of God, be filled 
with envy and rage when they hear that Jesus declares 
himself the head of that Kingdom, and yet is to bestow 
upon them nought but the blessings of righteousness, 
peace and hope in God — no other honors, no other riches.’ 


JULIAN. 


163 


The hour of repose having insensibly drawn on as- we 
said these things, we then separated and were soon 
drowned in sleep. 

When the morning was come, and I had worshipped 
with this household and eaten, and had taken leave of 
J oseph and his sons, who went early to begin the labors 
of the day, I sought Mary, the mother of Jesus, in the 
garden, where she sat alone. 

“Young man,” said she, “may the Lord bless- thee 
and go with thee. Thou dost almost believe in Jesus, 
seek him if thou canst, sit with him and open thine ears 
with a mind willing to be convinced and thou shalt 
wholly believe. Yet I blame not my sons, that they 
withhold their faith as thou hast seen - y too near are 
they to see aright ; but, as I believe, their hearts are 
true, and they will not willingly do their brother a 
wrong.” 

“ That,” said I, “ is the chief thing ; it is much less 
surely that they should think with thee, than that they 
should act right. They are bound to do justly ; but 
they must think as they can.” 

“ So it is,” rejoined the mother ; “ I only could de- 
sire that they followed him ; then, as I think, would 
they trust him more, and would be with him to aid in 
times of danger, and the older to counsel him. For 
though it be that the wisdom of God dwells in him, yet 
doth he needlessly, as I judge, run into dangers, and stir 
up against him the angry passions of the Rulers and 
Scribes. Moreover through the zeal which consumes 
him, and the importunity of the multitudes who throng 
him with their sick folks to be healed, and whom he can 
never send away till he hath satisfied them, have we 


164 


JULIAN. 


deemed him as one beside himself, and have sought to 
draw him away, lest he should die ; but he heeds us not. 
If thou shouldst follow him, and join his disciples — thou 
wilt not — thou wilt not forsake him if thou shouldst 
see danger or evil to threaten ?” 

“ Assuredly,” I answered, “ I will stand ready at all 
times to help and defend, for I believe him holy and a 
messenger of God, even as do his brethren ; but I do 
not see how it were possible I should be a follower of 
him, as I am already bound to Herod.” 

Mary started as 1 said those words and exclaimed, 

“ Ah, art thou then of Herod ? It is said that that 
wicked man pursues even the life of Jesus — as of John 
also. What has he done of injury -to thy master ? 
Alas ! it is not in his heart to harm the least, or the 
worst thing in nature. What can set thee against 
him ?” 

“ Fear nothing from me,” I answered, “ nor yet from 
Ilerod, if any power of mine may avail to turn aside 
the evil he may intend. Though I believe not in Jesus 
as the Christ of God, I believe he is of God and full of 
goodness, as thou and thy sons have said, and never 
shall he suffer harm if arm of mine can hinder.” 

Said the mother, “ I doubt thee not, I doubt thee not. 
Ah ! why do I seem to doubt the providence and the 
arm of God, why cleave to human aid ? Had 1 any of 
the faith of our Father Abraham I should not be thus 
afraid, and leaning on broken reeds. Why should I 
fear? Why does my mother’s heart tremble when I 
know that God reigneth? Will not He, who gave me 
my son, and hath appointed him to this high destiny 
appear for and protect him by his own stretched out 


JULIAN. 


105 

arm ? Shall He leave half finished the work Ho hath 
begun'? Shall it be in the power of man to defeat the 
hopes of Israel 1 Shall Herod even, or Pilate lay their 
hand upon the Lord’s anointed to do him harm — or the 
Priests and the Scribes in their envy ? Shall not he, to 
whom the Lord hath thus revealed himself, though the 
whole land rose up against him, and Babylon herself 
were moved to destroy him, laugh them to scorn and 
over their ruin enter into his glory 1 I doubt it not. 
God, who has poured out of his Spirit in so full measure 
upon my son Jesus, will not leave nor forsake him, but 
will exalt him to the throne of his fathers, and all Israel 
shall confess him King.” 

As the mother of Jesus said these words, all her con- 
fidence and faith appeared to return ; she once more 
forgot the mother’s fond anxiety, in her sense of his 
union with God, and in her faith that God who had so 
mysteriously endowed him, would watch over him and 
preserve him for the ends to which he had destined him. 
How shall I describe the divine countenance of this for- 
tunate mother, as she cast herself in so absolute a spirit 
of faith on the providence of God ? I cannot. When I 
once more sec thee, my mother, I can tell more than 
my pen can say. 

With the affection of a mother for a child, she then 
gave me her blessing, “ Go thy way, young man, and 
the blessing of Jehovah be upon thee. If it please the 
Lord to turn thy heart towards his Son Jesus, come 
hither again, and this, roof shall again receive thee, and 
when all is accomplished for which we hope and wait, 
thou shalt not lose thy reward.” 

I then turned away, hut with reluctance, and bent my 


166 


JULIAN. 


steps towards the village. Having become interested 
in Jesus the more, the nearer I had approached him, I 
desired, now that I had by so fortunate a chance beheld 
his parents, his family, and his home, to see also the 
synagogue where he had always worshipped, where he 
had also preached, and from the brow of the rocky pre- 
cipice nigh unto which it stands, his fellow citizens had 
not long ago attempted, in their passion to cast him 
down headlong ; from which miserable fate he had saved 
himself only by employing for his deliverance the 
powers of God he had so often used, never for the 
injury, always for the protection or deliverance of 
others. 

Passing along through the midst of Nazareth I easily 
found, by following the directions I had received, the 
synagogue I was in search of. The doors were yet open, 
those who had been present at the morning prayers not 
having long departed. When I had entered and sur- 
veyed it, I inquired of a servant of the house for the 
place, near by, where the multitude had led Jesus with 
the purpose to destroy him. “ That will I gladly show 
thee,” he answered ; “ yet would it have been with more 
pleasure if I could have shown thee how and where they 
accomplished their purpose. The rocks are hard by, 
behind the building. Follow me.” As he went before 
me, but slowly by reason of his halting upon a withered 
limb, I asked why they had sought his life 1 

“ Thou art then a stranger in Israel ?” he said. “ I 
had taken thee for an inhabitant of these parts. Why 
they had sought his life 1 Father Abraham ! That is 
a question for a Jew to ask. But mayhap you never 
heard this new prophet as he calls himself ?” 


JVLIAN. 


167 


1 said, “ No, I have never heard him, but I desire to 
do so greatly.” 

“Better not,” he answered, “better not; no good 
would come of it. He leads many away of those who 
do not know him as we do.” 

I said I had never heard evil of him, though I had 
heard so much of everything else. 

“ At that,” he said, “ I marvel greatly. What is 
there in Israel he attacketh not ? What should stand 
had our young Nazarene his way ? What to him for- 
sooth are Moses and the Prophets ? What to him is it 
that the Law was given of God, and since the foundation 
of the world has been the glory of Israel ? His own 
word is better ! Aye, Sir, he sets aside Moses and 
Abraham, and the Prophets, as I do the beggarly rab- 
ble who would thrust themselves into the best seats of 
the synagogue. I truly, have authority in what I do. 
We of Nazareth would fain know what his is? It is 
not the men of Nazareth, who have sat and listened to 
the voice of the righteous Zechariah ever since the last Ju- 
bilee — the last I mean before that, tiiat hath just passed 
— who will soon take their teaching from a carpenter 
and the son of a carpenter. We are not fallen to that, 
though the people of Israel do esteem us as of the ken- 
nel. W ould all deal with the young zealot as was done 
by us, his mouth were soon stopped. Verily I believe 
it will now be thought that Nazareth is coming up in 
the world. No other place hath stood so firmly for the 
Law.” 

“Yet,” said I, “you cannot deny the wonderful works 
which he does. What make you of them ?” 

“ I am not obliged,” he replied, “ to make anything 


103 


JULIAN. 


of them. There are many ways of doing such things. 
Which is his way is not our matter. It is for us enough 
that a poor, low-born mechanic here in our town 
saith, or gives us to believe, that he thinks, he is the 
Christ! the Son of David, and King of Israel ! Takes 
he us for those utterly devoid of understanding? Never 
saw I the men of Nazareth to bum so with zeal for 
God, as that day when in these walls, which, so many 
years, as I have said, have sounded to the voice of the 
Holy Zecharia, this young limb of Jesus sought to get 
the ear of the people, that he might declare himself and 
his foul blasphemies. No sooner found they what was 
his drift, than a holy and righteous anger caused them 
to rise as one man to purge Israel of such pollution. 
Furiously did the people rage, and drive him from the 
house on before them to this very spot — here is the 
place you seek, Sir, — that they might end him and his 
impieties at once. But he was too quick for them — or 
strange to say, the hands of those who stood near could 
not reach or touch him with all their striving, and so by 
his arts he escaped, and has not since sought the streets 
and synagogues of Nazareth — nor, as I think, ever will. 5 ’ 

u Methinks,” said I, “ such an escape from a multi- 
tude bent upon his destruction, should convince you 
that God was helping him.” 

“ Wc deny not,” he answered, “ his wisdom nor his 
works, and vain were it, truly, to deny what all ears 
heard, and all eyes saw ; but whence he hath his power 
and his wisdom, as I have told thee already, each, may 
believe as he listeth. For me, I believe God inspireth 
none such as those who go about to destroy what lie 
hath before established by Moses, and set themselves 


JtJLlAN. 


109 


up therefore as Gods against God. Shall Jehovah 
build, and then himself tear down what he hath built'? 
He will carry his teachings and his works, if Israel will 
not listen, to the Gentile, will he ? Let him. Is that 
the way he shall prove himself the Christ? If there 
hath been a Christ promised by the Prophets, and if 
they have given him any office, it hath been that of one 
who shall exalt Israel more and more, and bring all 
men to bow before the Law, not one who shall degrade 
her in the eyes of men, and bestow equal honors and 
favors on the cursed Gentile. What more needed we 
to show, to one who hath eyes, whence he came ? Did 
his own kindred believe in him more than we ? Truly 
did they not. Old Joseph is a just and a devout man, 
and hath brought up his offspring as one who loveth the 
Sabbath, and the road to Zion ; and I warrant you, he 
took not so patiently the forward conceits of his son 
Jesus. Verily, when he first heard that Jesus had be- 
gun to teach, he set forth to withstand him, as one 
whom he judged not in his right mind. Who is my 
son, thought the good man, that he should set up for 
teacher and prophet ? Nor any more regard did the 
rest of the household have for him, so that it was not 
long ere he was glad to take up his lodging elsewhere. 
Capernaum entertaineth him now ; but, as I hear, they 
think not much more of his doings there and over the 
Lake at Chorazin and at Bethsaida, than here. To tell 
what I think the truth of his kindred here in Nazareth, 
they would have borne longer with him, but that not- 
withstanding he possessed such powers of doing wonder- 
ful things — as at Cana to . change water into wine, and 
doubtless to change any one thing into another, — yet 
Vol. II.— 15 


170 


JULIAN. 


nothing would he do- of that sort for the advantage of 
his own family, but while he was profitable to others, 
left them to their labor and their poverty, which, thought 
they, would scarcely be were our brother Messiah and 
King of Israel. Wherefore they give little heed to him 
any more, and deny him wholly.” 

“ Not wholly,” said I, “ for it is within the hour that 
I have conversed with them.” 

“ Then it is of late,” said the other, “ that they think 
otherwise. And I remember me, I have heard they are 
again, at least some of them, a little softened towards 
him, seeing that he has been so set upon by others, and 
by Herod, who, it is affirmed confidently, will soon deal 
with him.” 

Having satisfied myself with observing the place to 
which my guide had conducted me, and heard enough to 
make me believe that the Nazarenes deserved their ill 
repute in Judea, I left him, and returning again through 
the village, took my way towards Tiberias. 

As I walked along and thought of all I had heard and 
seen, I could not but feel pity toward this teacher of 
Nazareth, whom all seem to allow to be not only of a 
life and manner entirely pure and innocent, but filled 
with acts of charity and love toward others ; yet all 
seem inclined at the same time, some for one reason 
and some for another, to injure, or at least to refuse 
to him their regard and confidence. They behold his 
works, and confess them to have all the marks of God, 
yet will not believe his words. His instructions, too, 
are held to be laden with a divine wisdom, to be worthy 
of any of the Prophets of God who have gone before, 
yet do they fall upon hearts so little ready for them, or 


JULIAN. 


171 


stuffed with notions so contrary to them, that they are 
dropped by the way-side and perish — save as here and 
there they reach, though afar off, souls like those of 
Judith, Ruth, and Joanna, when they sink in and are 
held as the heart’s truest treasure. But when, with all 
my pity, I ask how it could be otherwise ? I find my- 
self obliged to say, I know not; I cannot see. Were it 
not that Jesus gives himself out, though not plainly, but 
obscurely and covertly as it were, for Messiah, sure I 
am, his virtues would secure the homage of all save 
the baser spirits among the priesthood. But while he 
claims so much, and yet lives as he does the life of a 
wanderer, in poverty and want, with publicans and fish- 
ermen for his only circle of friends and advisers, it can- 
not be otherwise than that so manifest a discordance 
between what he appears, and yet claims to be, should 
turn all against him. As I have before said, I have 
trusted that I might behold in him the marks, and all 
the marks, we look for in him whom we expect — and 
find him to be more than a prophet; but with what I 
learn now, I see not how the life and office of Messiah 
can consist with either the maxims he declares, or the 
life he leads. But time will show. 

Prolonging, by much devious wandering, my way, I 
did not until nightfall reach the outskirts of Tiberias. 
The sun was just sinking behind the western hills as I 
entered the gates of the palace. 

I found refreshment of every kind, for the soul and 
the wearied body, at the hospitable board of Joanna. 
She rejoiced greatly that I had seen those who were so 
well acquainted with the life and teachings of Jesus, 
though she grieved also that I had not found Jesus 


172 


JULIAN. 


himself. This young woman is wholly possessed and 
swayed by the idea of this prophet. Of a devout mind, 
she has found only in Jesus such food for her soul as 
she desires. She knows not how better than others to 
explain his conduct ; she only trusts that with patience 
and forbearance on the part of the people all expecta- 
tions will be satisfied. Willingly would she follow him 
as one of his disciples, and doubts not she should find 
all she looks for, notwithstanding that some, as she had 
learned, of those who were nearest to him, have aban- 
doned him. “IIow would Chuza,” I asked, “agree to 
such a choice on your parti” 

“ Chuza,” she answered, “ much as he honors the Law 
and the synagogue, honors such virtue as this that is seen 
in Jesus more, and though for himself he has no hope of 
Jesus, or faith in him as Israel’s Christ, yet he doubts not 
his worthiness, and would never deny me my own belief 
whatever it may be.” 

She looks with impatience towards the Feast of Taber- 
nacles, when she shall go up to Jerusalem, and once more 
listen to his teaching. In the mean time she has collected 
from every quarter largely of his sayings, on which she 
feeds by night and day. She entreats me also to read, 
and, that I may do so, promises to place them in my 
hands. 

When, on the following day, I was summoned to an 
interview with Herod, it was determined that with no 
more delay than should be needful first, to see Beth- 
Harem again, I should set out for Rome. So. that after 
visiting the house of Onias, I shall soon be on my way 
toward the capital of the world ; a place which but so 
little while ago I left with pain not to be described, and 


JULIAN. 


173 


which now, but for thee, my mother, I should never 
willingly behold again. This letter will hardly be read, 
ere 1 myself shall sit at your side. 


In agreement with the prediction which closes the fore- 
going epistle, it was not many days before I parted from 
Herod in Tiberias and set forth for Beth-IIarem, nor did 
I tarry long there, ere I again set forth and crossing over 
to Caesarea, took ship for the Tiber. 

While in Beth-IIarem I learned that Onias continued 
absent in the southern part of the country, not only per- 
forming trusts committed to him by Herod, but also 
making use of every means thrown in his way, or which 
he could devise, to increase his knowledge of Jesus, and 
become acquainted with his true character and designs. 
For this purpose he had visited Jerusalem, and at the 
Passover had sought Jesus and followed him north as far 
as Samaria, hearing him and witnessing his works, when 
he again returned to Idumea, but with the resolve at the 
approaching feasts of the Pentecost and Tabernacles, 
again to seek the capital and watch his course. 

Of Zadok, Judith informed me, that he had grown 
each day more fierce in his opposition toward all who 
were inclined to put their faith in either John or Jesus, 
that he had joined himself with other leading Pharisees 
in other parts of Perasa and Judea, whose object was to 
make or find occasion to accuse them of such offences 
against the Law and the Roman power as should cause 
them to be imprisoned, or else to stir up the people to 
some act of violence. He had also used language, which 
15 * 


174 


JULIAN, 


showed that they who were bold enough, contrary to the 
counsels of such as himself, to believe in Jesus, should be 
cast out of the synagogue, and suffer besides whatever 
evils might be inflicted upon them by the believing and 
the devout. He had become, since I had left Beth- 
Ilarem, exceedingly mad ; and in the towns round about, 
in Jericho and in Jerusalem had bound himself by sol- 
emn oaths to others of the same sect and the same 
temper, to purge the land, as they say, of blasphemers. 
It would not be easy, Judith thought, for Jesus to elude 
the watchfulness of these men, and the devices they 
would put in practice, to impute to him such acts, or 
such opinions, as would rouse against him the passions 
of the people, and excite also the suspicions of the Ro- 
man government. 

I visited the abode of the leper where I found all the 
comfort possible, to those who had been overtaken by 
such misfortunes. Ruth had sought diligently for all the 
intelligence she could procure of Jesus, and the opinions 
he had promulgated, of his character, life, and works, and 
from all that she could learn had become persuaded that 
he was in truth the Prophet who should come into the 
world. But especially was she guided by her conversa- 
tions with Judith, and by the knowledge derived from 
the sayings of Jesus, of which from various quarters the 
daughter of Onias, like Joanna, had collected a large 
store. These served to convince her, as she said, that 
Jesus was too holy and pure to make any pretensions 
that were not founded in truth ; it was impossible, that 
he who could advocate the cause of God and the most 
exalted virtue in such a manner, borne out by such a life, 
could be false in any part of his conduct. If, therefore, 


JULIAN. 


175 


he had declared himself to be the Messiah, she believed 
him ; and however much at variance his appearance, and 
much of his language might be with what was looked for 
in that Prince, she could not doubt that in the event he 
would vindicate all that he had uttered or done, and 
stand justified before the Jewish people. “ How can 
such works as his,” she exclaimed, “ be done but by the 
power of the Most High ? Who would not tremble to 
give them to an evil spirit? And how can one, whom 
the Spirit of God is with, by wonders so astonishing, 
speak otherwise than as the same Spirit of God shall 
direct? Shall Jesus, by the touch of his hand, do the 
works of God, and at the same time by the words of his 
mouth utter lies which are of the Devil ? It cannot be. 
As Jesus is reported to have said, ‘ the same vine bear- 
eth not bad fruit and good fruit, the same spring sends 
not forth salt water and fresh, the waters of Genesareth 
and those of the Dead Sea.’ I believe, then, that, be- 
cause Jesus has declared that he is the Messiah of God, 
or even, because he permits the people to believe that he 
is, therefore he is that person, nor shall any Zadok have 
power to pluck this faith out of my heart.” 

In reply to this, I said that I could not for myself, be- 
lieve until I saw. When Jesus openly in the eyes of the 
nation assumed the name and the place, which, as the 
king of the Jews, belonged to him, I would acknowledge 
him and forsake every other ; but in no other event. I 
required the evidence of my eye and ear; the corre- 
spondence of Jesus to the prophecies. Everything in the 
manner of life, the character, and maxims of J esus was 
against the probability that he was the Christ, and in its 
favor only his declaration — if in truth he had ever made 


176 


JULIAN. 


such declaration, for it could not be shown beyond a 
doubt that he had — that he was so, and his power of 
working miracles. I must have more than this. When 
he will listen to the importunities of those who throng 
him, of some of the wisest and most powerful in the land, 
and stand openly and publicly forth, then it will be time 
enough for one who would be governed by more than 
his fancies, to bend the knee and follow him. 

Ruth I found, however, too firm a believer to be 
shaken by anything I could say, either in earnest, or 
simply by way of dispute. Not Judith herself is of a 
firmer faith. She is fully bent upon going up to the 
Feast of Tabernacles, when it shall come, and taking with 
her her father, that if she can obtain the favor of J esus, 
he may possibly be healed. Of this her heart is now 
fullest. Long ere this would she have sought liis pres- 
ence, but that Levi has refused steadfastly^ saying, that 
a life like his was not worth the prolonging, seeing that 
for so many years he had been shut out from the knowl- 
edge and affections of all who once knew him. His 
Ruth had now found those who loved and would care for 
her, though he were away, it was all he wanted ; and fain 
would he be now away and at rest. He would not, even 
as Job had said before him, ‘live away.’ But to such 
things, Ruth made replies that have touched his heart too 
tenderly to be withstood, and she has obtained his con- 
sent to go up to the Feast, unless Jesus should first per- 
chance come into the Perrea. They were to go up in 
company with Judith. 

When I had thus remained not many days in Beth- 
Harem, I departed for Rome. At Ccesarea, I did not 
fail, as soon as I arrived, to seek out the Greek Zeno, to 


JULIAN. 


177 


whom I owed so much. He was rejoiced to see me, and 
with great satisfaction went over the events of the few 
but disastrous days I had passed in that capital. He at 
once drew me with him, with quick consent on my part, 
to the ancient site of the synagogue, and the house of the 
widow of Sameas. The tower for the collossus of Tibe- 
rius I found to have rapidly sprung up and nearly at its 
intended height. The ruins of the house of the widow 
of the wine merchant still blackened the ground, and 
bore testimony to the violence that had been committed. 
It needed not much aid from the fancy to believe, as I 
wandered among them, as the shadows of evening were 
falling, that the forms of Anna and Philip were to be 
seen among the tossing branches of the trees, or flitting 
among the fallen columns and crumbling walls, their 
voices mingling with the sighings of the wind as it swept 
over them. It was not easy to depart from a spot still 
so beautiful in itself, and where so many objects served 
to remind me of those whom I in so short a time had 
come to love so well, and from whom I had been so 
violently separated. As I turned away, sad with such 
recollections, I inquired of Zeno if it was known where 
now the widow of Sameas was dwelling. “ In the capi- 
tal,” he answered, “of Philip, whither she had at first 
fled. Deeming it more for her safety that the place of 
her retreat should be known to none save a few of those 
to whom she had entrusted her private affairs, she had 
strictly concealed it until within a brief space when it 
had come to be well understood in Caesarea, that her 
home was in Caesarea Philippi. But at the same time 
it was affirmed that she was about to remove to Rome, 
where, if rumor deceive not,” added Zeno, “ thou wilt 


178 


JULIAN. 


doubtless find her on thy arrival. Procla would gladly 
have recalled her to her ancient home, and have caused 
her dwelling to be rebuilt, but with all her address, she 
could not in this overcome the obstinacy of Pilate ; who 
professed to entertain apprehensions of new difficulties, 
if any more lenity were shown toward those who had 
in any degree been parties to that revolt, but in truth he 
was governed by his avarice, which could not spare the 
gains which by the sale of so valuable an estate would 
flow into his purse.” 

These things being so, having seen Zeno, and visited 
the spots so dear to memory, I set sail with a fair wind 
for Italy, and without any adverse events reached its 
shores in safety. My mother I found as I had left her, 
and with h$r, now her companion and inseparable friend, 
the mother of Philip and Anna. Our tears flowed afresh 
as we recounted the events of those few fatal days, which 
deprived a mother of her only children and robbed me 
of one, whose image ever floats before me and can never 
be supplanted by another. 

When the first cares of arriving after so long an ab- 
sence were over, and I had once more traversed the 
streets of Rome with every stone of which, owing to the 
activity of my youth, I had familiar acquaintance, and 
by such pilgrimages had revived a thousand recollec- 
tions, partly agreeable and partly painful, I turned to 
the affairs which had brought me so far, and sought the 
presence of Sejanus. Yet before I conversed with him, 
and had only gathered the knowledge concerning him to 
be had for the asking, at the corner of any of the streets 
of Rome, I discovered that all the reliance upon him on 
the part of Herod was that of a person upon a phantom 


JULIAN. 


179 


or shadow. For I found, that though the form of Se* 
janus was to be seen about the streets, in the Forum, in 
the Senate-house, and in his own sumptuous palace, hav- 
ing the same outward shape as ever, yet it now appeared 
and departed without, as it were, being noted whether 
it came or went, the people and the nobles offering no 
longer that worship which had once been paid as to a 
god. I found in a word, that the sun of Sejanus was 
overclouded and about to set — that the word had gone 
out from Caprese, and this man, who so little while ago, 
held all Rome and the world in the hollow of his hand, 
was, though still glittering in all the wonted trappings 
of his high place, of no more weight in the minds of men 
than a poor painted player-king with his tinsel robes 
and paper crown. Letters, dark and mysterious, have 
come from the Emperor to the Senate, which while they 
still salute Sejanus with the titles that have ever been 
lavished upon him, leave it not to be misunderstood by 
any who are not as blind as the favorite himself, that 
suspicions have been wakened in the breast of Tiberius, 
that native home of distrust and jealousy, which never 
can be removed but by the destruction of the miserable 
man against whom they have been raised. The steps 
of him, who so lately stood almost wuthin the circle of 
the throne itself, are now dogged by spies and informers, 
who report every word and look and movement to the 
gloomy tyrant who will not long be without a pretext 
for his accusation. When the blow would fall, it was 
not easy to conjecture, as a plausible or popular ground 
must be found for extreme proceedings. In the mean 
time, as I have said, so far as could be judged by the 


180 


J TTLI A2C. 


apparent honor and power of the minister, he held the 
same rank as ever in the estates of Rome. 

When I sought him, and by credentials with which I 
had been furnished, made known the authority under 
which I approached him, and the objects I had in view 
as the messenger of Herod, it did not surprise me that 
I was received, and the projects and proposals of Herod 
considered with the same care and interest as if he were 
still in the plentitude of his power, and kings and king- 
doms hung upon his word. So insensible was he to his 
true position, or so insensible did he choose to appear, 
that I was almost ready to believe the rumors in the 
city were false, and that a terrible retribution awaited 
the inhabitants for the slights they had of late shown 
this second-hand tyrant. A little reflection, however, 
convinced me that my first impressions were right, and 
that my interview with Sejanus was a mere empty form 
— a scene in a comedy, or shall I rather say a comic 
scene in a tragedy. It could be followed by no act on 
his part. His promises were, indeed, many and reiter- 
ated, of lending to Herod all the support of which ho 
had formerly -spoken, but they were like the promises 
of a man who — as the possessed person in the Old Pris- 
ons of Beth-IIarem — though clothed in rags, yet imag- 
ines himself in possession of the riches of Solomon. 

No sooner had I terminated this interview, and sought 
further information of the truth in regard to Sejanus 
from those who well knew both the Emperor and the 
parasite, than I wrote to Herod, laying before him, 
borne out by incontestable evidence, the account of the - 
actual state of political affairs, and the failing power of 
the once great minister. I assured him that the depend- 


J^LIATT. 


181 


ing upon augnt from Sejanus, cither in the way of money 
or forces, was vain ; that so far from possessing any in- 
fluence in Rome, so as to attempt any such movement 
now, as might, perhaps, with much probability of suc- 
cess, have been attempted a year before, he was at pres- 
ent little more than a private individual, whom all 
looked upon as fallen under the displeasure and suspi- 
cions of Tiberius, and destined to speedy ruin; that 
whatever it was in his purpose to do in Judea must be 
done with his own strength, unless, relinquishing his 
plans concerning Herodias, he could bind himself in 
league with the kings of Arabia and Parthia ; that, how- 
ever, although nothing was to be looked for in Rome 
from political union, yet much was to be expected from 
the men of wealth among the Jewish population, which 
was large in numbers, and, as he knew, distinguished 
for the riches they had amassed. To these, if it were 
his pleasure, I would devote myself, and engage them 
to lend of their abundance to the restoration of the King- 
dom of Israel ; and it was not to be doubted, so con- 
stantly were their eyes directed that way, and their 
hopes to one day returning and dwelling in their native 
land beneath the power of their own King, in the new 
age that should unfold, that they would be impatient to 
bestow in proportion to their substance, to secure that 
great and glorious end. These with other things I com- 
municated to the TeUa-vcli not many aa ye alter i. *ad 
been in Rome. 

The letter which I tbia despatched proved to be the 
termination of my intercourse with Ilerod, for upon 
receiving it and thereby learning beyond any further 
doubt that hopes of alliance with Rome against herself 
Vol. II.— 16 


]82 JULIAN’ 

could no longer be indulged, and that in consequence any 
immediate action was rendered impossible, he turned 
toward that other project which he had never honestly 
abandoned, the marriage with Herodias, and the divorce 
of the daughter of Aretas. He, indeed, wrote to me 
after receiving the letter I had sent, and in it he hoped 
that I would continue to he engaged in his affairs in the 
manner I had proposed, and if I could not derive any 
longer advantage from Sejanus, to do what I could with 
the Jewdsh inhabitants. But it was not long after this 
that in a letter from Judith and Onias I learned that he 
was bent upon accomplishing his designs with the wife 
of Herod Philip. When this was made known to me, 
I at the same moment abandoned his cause, not being 
able to persuade myself that prosperity could attend 
the measures of one who should openly put from him 
the fear of God ; nor being ready to take any part in 
the injury of two men so holy as John and Jesus, for 
the advantage of one so wicked as Herod. The neces- 
sity thus laid upon me of suddenly withdrawing from 
an enterprise to which I had now so long bound myself, 
of whose success, wisely conducted, I could not doubt, 
with the success of which I deemed the glory of Israel 
to be so closely interwoven, gave me no little pain, and 
I could not for a time but hope and almost believe that 
Herod would return to himself, and, repenting of his evil 
designs, resume on his own strength the undertaking 
he had so foolishly postponed to the gratification of his 
passions. But what I soon learned from Judith put an 
end to all such expectations. She thus wrote. 

“Now, Julian, let me trust that you will finally and 
without reserve abandon the affairs of Herod, when I 


JULIAN. 


183 


shall inform you further of the course he has pursued. 
Never have 1 been able, notwithstanding all the efforts 
of Onias and all the reasonings and persuasions of his 
nephew of Rome, to entertain other opinion of Herod 
than that which I have often expressed. I believe that 
you will now join yourself in judgment to me, and think 
of him even as I do ; yet of my father, I lament to say 
it, have I no hope that he will ever be separated from 
one to whom he seems bound by a spell cast over him 
by evil spirits, rather than by reasons which his own 
mind has weighed and can calmly justify. 

“ It is not easy to say why it was so, but certain it is, 
that your presence was a restraint upon the Tetrarch. 
It may have been because he stood in some dread of 
your plain speaking, or, which is more likely, because 
he hoped to derive advantages through your means he 
could secure in no other way so well. No sooner were 
you gone, than as if he had been relieved of some load, 
or had escaped from some painful obligation, he gave 
himself at once to the passion which many asserted he 
had mastered, and not only resorted immediately to 
Jerusalem, but entertained Herodias in the most open 
manner in his own palace in Tiberias. This was fol- 
lowed by consequences easily foreseen — the sudden de- 
parture of the daughter of Aretas for her father’s court, 
and letters breathing vengeance and war from the in- 
sulted king. These things coming, as could not be 
otherwise, to the ears of John, he proclaimed publicly 
the wickedness of the Tetrarch, and denounced him to 
the people as a despiser and transgressor of the Law, 
and one who through the violence and wickedness of his 
passions was about to bring all the evils of war upon 


JULIAN. 


m 

hid country. But, alas! he spoxc into the ears of the 
deaf, and to hearts too eevrupted by the like iniquities 
to he touched by the a&horitions of that stem hut 
righteous man. The'- heard him, but heeded him not. 
Enough were found of the same 3ta:np with the Kh?g, 
who in his condemnation by the prophet had heard also 
their own, to carry to his ears a report of all he had 
said, which inflaming the King to a high pitch of rage he 
sent out his soldiers, seized John, and hurried him off to 
the dungeons of Machcerus, where he has since been 
strictly confined, and out of which it is not difficult to 
see he will never come. Herod, indeed, hath some 
fear and even reverence of him, — -for with all his vice, 
he stands in dread not only of invisible spirits of evil, 
but of spirits of good also, of everything that is myste- 
rious and obscure, — and, therefore, he might release 
him when his end was once gained, and for the reason 
also that he may apprehend commotions among these 
of the people who hold John to be a prophet; but if 
such should be the inclinations of his own — not merciful 
but — cowardly heart, there will be none such in the 
bosom of her to whom he will now ally himself, who 
hath long treasured up her anger against the bold peas- 
ant who has dared to thrust himself in between Princes 
and the accomplishment of whatever designs they may 
please to entertain, and hath been one cause at least of 
so long a postponement of an event, which she even 
more than Herod has sought to compass. We doubt 
not ■with the next arrival of news from Jerusalem to 
hear of their adulterous marriage. 

“ Of Jesus -we learn that few miracles have of late 
been wrought, but that he employs himself in preaching 


JULIAN. 


1S5 


in the synagogues, the truths which he conceives to he 
most essential, and in which the differences are to be dis- 
earned between what he holds to be best, and the ancient 
Law of Moses. But so far as J have learned he seems 
to be rather a restorer of the Law to its true signify 
cance, and a rebuker of prevailing corruptions and 
abuses of it than one who would overthrow and destroy 
it, of which purpose some fail not to accuse him.” 

I often at this time received letters from Judith in- 
forming me of the progress of Jesus and of the oppo- 
sitions he encountered, and of herself seeking him in 
Galilee and becoming a constant follower and hearer. 
Of her own opinions at this time — the period just going 
before the Feast of Tabernacles — I gathered that, with 
the common people, she received him with an undoubting 
faith as the Messiah. “ The Pharisees,” she says, “ are 
exceedingly bitter against him, and by the power they 
hold in their hands they deter many from following him, 
and confessing themselves disciples. But the lower sort, 
who have nothing to lose, neither place nor estimation, 
laugh at these tyrants, and crowd about him gladly and 
fearlessly. I consort with these ; sit and hear with them, 
and believe with them. They doubt not, and how should 
I doubt, that Jesus will prove all we wish and all wo 
want ; since it is impossible for those who will sec and 
hear him to associate deceit with him, or any purpose or 
design other than those which he plainly avows. Now he 
declares that he hath come from «God, that the prophets 
have foreshown him as he who is to come, that the King- 
dom of God is shortly to make its appearance and bo 
established, and that he is the Christ who shall reign 
over the new Kingdom. Can it be otherwise than so. 


186 


JULIAN. 


since he has declared it 1 I think not. And oh, how 
peaceful and hallowed a people would they be over 
whom Jesus shall reign as King ! How different he from 
the other kings of the earth ! with what new honors will 
he crown the good, with what new terrors will he strike 
the wicked ! In his teaching he ever invests with the 
highest praise the virtues of sincerity, contentment, gen- 
tleness, chastity, and kindness toward all. Shall not his 
own government proceed upon the maxims which he has 
thus publicly proclaimed as those which are to be con- 
sidered superior over all others 1 How certainly then, 
if these things shall be so, will wars and contentions 
cease, and violent and ambitious men no longer be 
among those who shall rule in Israel, and the soft de- 
lights of peace, and justice and mutual deeds of love, 
and the sincere worship of God, and the observance of 
the Law unperverted by the traditions of the elders, 
honored and exalted in the eyes of all, cover the earth 
and make it as a delightful garden before the Lord ! 
Why, why does Jesus thus delay to assume the place 
that is his, and lay the foundations of the Kingdom whose 
approach he has so plainly announced 1 The power with 
which God has entrusted him must be amply sufficient 
to make his way plain before him, and obtain an easy 
conquest over whatever opposition his enemies, the Pha- 
risees and the Council, might array against him. It i? 
this delay that disheartens many, causes others to doubt, 
some to despair, and not a few to abandon him ; for, say 
they, we can see no reason why he should any longer re- 
fuse to do what so many urge upon him. W e have seen 
miracles enough, we have left our homes to follow him, 
and we now are impatient for the consummation, and 


JULIAN. 


187 


think we have a right to demand it. But others say, if 
such an one as Jesus is to reign in Israel, then as he is 
to govern by rules and maxims so different from those 
of other Princes, it must be necessary to lay deep among 
the people a right preparation. They must be brought 
to expect and to desire not such a state of things as has 
existed under Herod and other former kings, but such as 
he has constantly predicted as to constitute that which is 
to be now founded, and this can be done only by often 
and to the whole people of Judea, in one place as 
well as in another, from the west to the east, and from 
the north to the south, declaring the principles on which 
it is to be conducted, and obtaining the willing assent of 
all hearts. I do not say, Julian, that there are not mis- 
givings among even such as these, and that they are not 
often startled and alarmed, and made to doubt by words 
which Jesus uses, by slights put upon the chief men of 
the nation, by his* free departures from the common 
practices of the most devout, and dark intimations that 
he himself is destined rather to suffer future evils than to 
reign as a Prince. But these moments and causes of 
apprehension or doubt, are as nothing in comparison 
with the deep foundations of our hope. For myself, 
could I well be content — which Onias ever ascribes to 
my Samaritan descent — were Jesus to be no other than 
a teacher and reformer, — a preacher of righteousness, 
and a restorer of the Law. Yet am I at the same time 
ready to acknowledge that I look with greater expecta- 
tions of good to Israel — of greater good than could 
otherwise accrue — which Jesus could effect w'ere he not 
only prophet but king also. How would he then stand 
above all others a just model for all the princes of the 


188 


JULIAN. 


earth ! a God among men, of whom the true worship 
should be copying and displaying his virtues, receiving 
and practising the righteous principles of his govern- 
ment ! And in saying this, confound me not with those 
who throng the steps of Jesus but with expectations of 
some advantage so soon as he shall proclaim himself, 
and who think not of him or his future kingdom as differ- 
ing from other thrones and other monarchs from whom 
flow honors, powers, and riches, save that from Jesus 
these shall flow in fuller streams, and overspread the 
whole land of Judah and Israel. If I believe him King, 
it is a King, the foundations of whose throne shall be 
righteousness, and its inscription, 4 Holiness unto the 
Lord whose office it shall be as the Lord’s Anointed, 
not more to subdue the enemies of Israel, than to exalt 
the Law in the eyes of men, and cause it to be obeyed 
of every soul, and presently to gatherall nations of the 
earth under its sway.” 

Thus wrote Judith in one out of very many epistles 
which, while I dwelt in Rome. I constantly received — all 
of them together presenting a very exact account of the 
doings of Jesus and the conduct and opinions of the 
people during that period. I would willingly have re- 
turned and passed this interval in Judea, but affairs of 
my mother, together with her unwillingness so soon to 
part with me again, kept me in Rome. But though in 
Rome, the state of Judea, and the works and teaching of 
Jesus, were with me the things of chiefest interest, and 
with the most of our people also, to whom I communi- 
cated freely of all the information I received. Not less 
than myself, many in a greater degree, were they roused 
and inflamed with the hopes excited by the miracles of 


JULIAN. 


189 


Jesus, not doubting that he was the promised king, and 
would soon establish his reign. Not a few made every 
preparation which at a distance could be made — con- 
verting their estates into gold and precious stones — to 
remove from Rome to Judea as soon as the final eleva- 
tion of Jesus should scatter every remaining doubt. 
They were indeed filled with wonder at the same th in gs 
which caused so much doubt and dismay to the most de- 
voted and devout Jews at home. They could not inter- 
pret his humble origin and mean and lowly condition, 
nor many of the doctrines which were imputed to him, 
but neither on the other hand could they interpret his 
astonishing powers except he were the Son of God. And 
thus a vague hope, notwithstanding many adverse signs 
kept its place in their minds, and with every arrival of 
news from Jerusalem or Beth-Harem, they would 'look 
to have it confirmed by some new and more decisive 
event. 

As for the Romans of the better sort, if they heard at 
all of the affairs of Judea, and the strange events given 
birth to there, it was only as of some story of magical 
illusion, or demon power, or some superstition of a peo- 
ple ever prone to wonder, and whose early history, as 
their own, abounded with many relations of a similar 
kind, and so they gave little heed to any of the accounts 
which from time to time reached their ears. Some in- 
deed, who were more careful to distinguish things that 
differ, and not to take all that is like for the same, of 
whom there are ever but a few, thought that in Jesus 
there was somewhat which exalted him far above ordi- 
nary mortals, and which ranked him justly among divine 
beings ; they doubted not he was a God, descended for 


100 


JULIAN. 


great purposes among men. Such opinions it was well 
known that the Emperor himself entertained; and to 
decide in matters of this sort, as, indeed, any question 
that called for the exercise of a shrewd and discerning 
judgment, no man in Rome was more competent than 
Tiberius. He possessed wonderful powers also of con- 
founding a plain matter ; but that was because he loved, 
and had some reason why he wished, to perplex the 
reader or hearer. He eagerly sought for all intelligence 
concerning the Prophet as it arrived, and did much by 
his - inquiries and his conversation to spread abroad 
among the higher classes a knowledge of what was going 
on in our remote and despised country. 

Although I heard so fully of affairs in Judea, through 
Judith, yet it was not until after the Eeast of Taberna- 
cles that so much as a word came to me from Onias. 
When that festival was over, and Onias, Judith, and 
Ruth had again returned from the city to their homes, I 
at length received a letter from him, of which I here 
preserve the greater part. 

“ Long ago,” says Onias, “ did I purpose to write and 
give thee such information as I had gathered concerning 
the affairs of the King in this part of Israel, but my de- 
votion to them hath been such as to leave little power 
for other things ; but beside this a greater hindrance 
still hath grown — how wilt thou marvel ! — out of my 
following after Jesus, whose steps I have closely pur- 
sued with but brief intervals of absence since I first left 
Beth-Harem for Idumea. Yet though thy first thought, 
Julian, may be one of surprise and wonder, thy second 
will be one of approval. For ought not they who would 


J ULIAN. 


191 


in so great a matter arrive at a judgment which their 
own minds shall afterwards justify, and which shall be 
in accordance with the truth of things, to seek the knowl- 
edge necessary for its foundation at the springs where 
it is to be found most abundant and most pure 1 
Wherefore I determined, that whereas I had up to the 
day when I left Beth-Harem, received all my knowledge 
of Jesus through the reports of others, and the rumors 
which were spreading over the country of whose origin 
and authority none could give any account, I would no 
longer in such a matter trust to what might be error or 
falsehood, but myself resort to J esus or his disciples and 
become a patient learner of the truth. 

“ Thou knowest how at Beth-Harem I had ever laid 
a restraint upon the holy Zadok, when in his zeal for the 
Law and our chosen Head he was prompt on all occa- 
sions to revile the very name of Jesus and his followers, 
never doubting them to be deceivers, children of the 
Devil, and that so they would be proved in the end. 
I was not willing that one, who as it was reported to us, 
was so full of a divine spirit, whose life was so innocent, 
whose annunciation had been attended by such signs, 
whose own works were so astonishing, should be judged 
as it were in darkness, by such as had never for them- 
selves sought the light, which for the seeking was easily 
to be had. For myself, moreover, I now confess it, it 
seemed to me that if all was true that was brought to 
our ears, there was a likelihood, almost bordering upon 
certainty, that this Galilean Prophet was in truth the 
expected Prince, veiling, for purposes which had not 
been explained, but were well capable to be explained, 
his greatness, and concealing himself under the humble 


1U2 


JULIAN. 


guise and condition of a servant. Hardly was Judith 
herself more moved toward Jesus, than I. It was ac- 
cordingly with great expectations that such favorable 
judgments would be established, and that as a conse- 
quence thereof I should abandon the cause of Herod, as 
thou hast now rashly done, that when I had reached Idu- 
mea, I determined within myself to go up to Jerusalem 
at the Passover, for it was rumored that Jesus would be 
there. 

“ I went. J esus came, as it was predicted he would 
do, I saw and heard him, I followed him from J erusalem 
into the country round about in Judea, then into Sama 
ria and Galilee, thence to Jerusalem again at the Pente- 
cost and Tabernacles, and am now returned even as I 
came forth from Beth-Harem, more than ever a Jew 
and a Herodian? The man of Nazareth has made no 
disciple of the Vine-dresser of Jordan — who, as ever, is 
a follower of Moses and the Prophets, and through them 
a believer in the Redemption of Israel, and the new 
Kingdom of God. This faith and this hope shall no 
man take from me. 

“ But was it at once, J ulian, that I sifted out truth 
from error? and was it an easy task? Was the way 
smooth, with no yawning pits of danger and death, 
where the foot slipped in darkness ? It was quite other- 
wise. I have escaped, yet as those who have passed 
through the fire, as those who have been snatched as 
Daniel from the jaws of the lion. There was that in 
Jesus that drew me towards him, as it were with cords 
of iron and bands of steel, and there bound me ; and 
like the foolish multitude I had well nigh been held fast 
in the disloyal cap^Vity. The same affections, which 


JULIAN. 


193 


forcibly took possession of their hearts, were making 
their entrance into mine also, whether I would or not. 
And now when I look about me and perceive that 
through the good providence of God I am rescued while 
the multitudes of the people are yet in bonds I wonder, 
while I rejoice. For, as I have said, there is that in 
Jesus, which attracts and binds as by some magic force. 
Yea, such power, mysterious and not to be withstood, 
is seen to flow out even from the very countenance and 
form ! I first beheld him as he sat teaching in the 
Beautiful Gate of the Temple, and sure I am my eyes 
never fell upon a human form of such majesty yet also 
of such graciousness. What was great and manly pre- 
vailed by a large excess over what was only fair in 
both the shape and the features of the countenance, yet 
upon these the eye rested with delight for their exceed- 
ing comeliness, but much more for the expressions of 
love toward all, which shot forth in every look and 
every motion. He seemed ever as if anxious to know 
the wants, and read the language which spoke in the 
faces of the humblest of the people who surrounded 
him, and who without encouragement would be slow 
to approach freely one so endowed. Accordingly when 
he was speaking to them, and as much when he was 
not, his eyes were roving over the crowds and his 
form bent towards them, rarely at any time sinking 
back into himself, or seeming as if there were any inter- 
est to engage him separate from theirs. But at such 
times as this happened, then a shade of sadness settled 
over his face, showing that oppressive thoughts were 
passing through his mind, which there were none to 
whom he could make them known, in order by counsel 
VoL. II.— 17 N 


104 


JULIAN. 


or sympathy to divide the burden. In truth he was not 
seen ever to communicate with another, not even his 
chosen companions, as we are wont to do w T ith those to 
whom we commit the whole of ourselves as to another 
self, in the knowledge that we shall be received aright, 
and that whatsoever is in us we may with freedom im- 
part. This indeed was not surprising ; for although 
they who approached him, even for the first time, im- 
mediately perceived that benignity and a fraternal spirit 
predominated in his character, and were beaming forth 
from his face, yet who, when they considered what mys- 
terious alliances bound him to God and invisible spirits, 
could ever sit or converse with him as with another ; 
could ever feel toward him but as a messenger and ser- 
vant of Jehovah, in whom dwelt his spirit and his 
power ! Who could consort with him as an equal and 
a companion 1 Wherefore, wherever he is seen in the 
city or in the fields, thronged by the multitudes, or pur- 
suing his way from the city to the seclusion of the 
Mount of Olives or of Bethany, at a feast or in the 
house of mourning, does he seem ever and equally 
alone, as if not among the people at large had he found 
those with whom he could contract a friendship, w hich 
had been denied by the members of his own household. 

“ There being, in addition to all I have said, the ap- 
pearance of truth and honesty in Jesus, and openness 
too which convinced the observer, that nothing was 
kept back from the people which he had power to com- 
municate, or which it concerned them ' to know, and a 
readiness to hear both the inquiries and the objections 
which any who approached had to propose, with a 
gentleness, and a compassionate regard for all that gave 


JULIAN. 


195 


assurance of a kind reception, even to women and chil- 
dren, if they could so far overcome the natural feelings 
of awe as to draw nigh to him, I have to acknowledge, 
J ulian, that when I had once seen him and heard his 
discourse, I was as one bound to him ; every feeling of 
the heart without any will of my own was freely his, 
and for a time I felt as if I too should number myself 
among his followers. I could not leave him. Wher- 
ever he was, there was I also. I sought him in the 
temple, I joined the crowds that thronged him in the 
streets as soon as he was seen ; day and night I followed 
him through the cities and villages round about Jerusa- 
lem, often without shelter or food, that I might lose 
none of the doctrine he taught, or fail to behold the 
wonders wrought by his hand. I was drawn along by a 
power I could not resist, the all attractive power of 
wisdom and goodness. Not a Jew in the land, not one 
of Jesus’s own disciples was a more constant and de- 
voted follower than I. 

“But what now? you ask. Have I given to Jesus 
my allegiance ? Do I find in him the King of Israel ? 
the Saviour for whom we wait! Not more, Julian, 
than in John ! Yet for his virtues I would that Jesus 
were he, that he gave other signs than those he now 
gives that God hath sent him to fill that high office. 
But how vain the wish! For though in Jesus be seen 
many of the qualities and graces which would fit him 
for that trust, yet of others he possesseth not one. The 
love of those with whom he had to do certainly he 
would gain, and by that bond would he hold them in 
his service — which is simply the service of holiness. 
But utterly devoid as he is of those higher qualities 


196 


JULIAN. 


which would fit him for Israel’s King and Deliverer, 
never would he draw toward him the perfect confidence 
of our people. They will follow him and hear him, as 
I have done, for the graciousness of his words and the 
strange attractions of his presence. They will witness 
his works and stand astonished at a power, so far 
beyond that of mortal man. But when he requires 
their faith in him as Christ, they will withhold it as I 
have done — they will draw back and, notwithstanding 
their loVe and their admiration, will abandon him, some 
doubting whether he be in his right mind, some holding 
him a deceiver, others a minister of Beelzebub, others 
perplexed at least, and not knowing how or what to 
think. 

“ As it is with the character of Jesus and the outward 
appearance, so is it with the doctrine he preaches ; at 
first, and in many things it captivates and charms, but 
afterwards those things are observed which not only 
agree nat with, but oppose the very existence of that 
Kingdom for which we look and pray; so that I have 
even conceived that he aimeth secretly to make hostile 
the heart of the people toward it. They of Rome are 
our enemies, yet he teacheth us to love them ! They 
have enslaved and injured us, he would have us for this 
evil to do them benefits! Israel can be exalted only as 
she shall triumph over this modern Babylon. Jesus 
teaches peace, and threatens that such as use the sword 
for conquest, or dominion, or revenge, shall by the 
justice of God be doomed to perish by the sword ! Is- 
rael can rise to her ancient glory only as she shall covet 
glory, and houor, and a kingdom, and as her children 
shall in these things aspire to be what their fathers 


JULIAN. 


197 


svere, but J esus teaches that they who follow him must 
seek after none of these things, but choose rather to 
serve others and be in obedience. If we, J ulian, have 
read the Prophets aright, the Messiah, and they who 
shall join themselves to him, will reap the natural re- 
wards of those who deliver their country from oppres- 
sion and invest her with power and dominion ; but 
Jesus declares that they who follow him must look 
only to deny themselves any such expectations, and to 
prepare themselves rather for sufferings and adversities, 
than for the enjoyments and honors we are accustomed 
to regard as our fitting recompense. And, moreover, 
while the zealous Jew, the descendant of Abraham, the 
disciple of Moses, hath been trusting that under the 
Christ he would be more than ever established, and the 
Gentile held as utterly accursed and alien before the 
Lord, Jesus hath more than hinted, he hath in his teach- 
ings plainly declared that henceforth all shall be alike 
before God ! — whom he even speaks of and addresseth, 
not as the God of Israel but the Father of all, not more 
disposed to crown Israel with peculiar honors than any 
other people that will keep the laws of righteousness ! 

“What think you of these things, Julian, which I 
have heard many times and oft from the lips of Jesus, 
and which in various form make up the burden of his 
teaching ? Are they the truths we look for from the 
Restorer of Israel ? Do they become the Deliverer — 
him of whom the Prophets have spoken as King of 
Israel in her restoration, even as God himself was her 
King of old 1 Thou thinkest even as I, and wonderest 
not that I turn from him — yea, and as thou wilt behold, 
against him. For excellent as are other truths that he 
17 * 


198 


JULIAN. 


delivers, and irreproachable as is his life, yet is it not 
plain to one who looks around, that it is the necessary 
effect of his teaching to indispose the people toward the 
true Messiah, to plant in their minds notions and errors 
not compatible with his coming and exaltation 1 Greatly 
more than John, does Jesus throw obstacles in the way, 
not only of Herod, but of any other, if Herod be not 
he, whom God may send to accomplish our salvation. 
Wherefore, it grows to an obligation, whose force I feel 
more and more, as I hear more of Jesus and witness 
more of his power over the people, to oppose him, and 
if it may be separate the multitudes from him. To this 
work henceforth do I give myself ; and if it should be 
said, behold the righteous zeal with which Onias re- 
sisteth Jesus ! — it may then be replied at the same 
time, that if he stirs himself with zeal for the cause of 
God it is not in ignorance that he doth it, for than he 
no one more constantly followed after the steps of Jesus, 
and listened to him more patiently. But, who was he, 
to suffer his private affection for this wonderful man, to 
stand between him and what he owed to the law, to 
Israel and to the God of Israel 1 

“ By other things also, have I been at first troubled and 
confounded, but at last strengthened in this resistance I 
purpose of Jesus. When soon after you, Julian, had 
set forth for Tiberius, and I for Idumea, I sought, and 
listened to the teaching of Jesus, I found that which I 
expected, a prophet of God clothed with powers, such as 
I believe were never before, save unto Moses, granted 
to a mortal man. The people about me took him for 
the Son of God, and King of Israel — no less. And 
truly when I either listened to his wisdom or witnessed 


JULIAN. 


199 


his wonderful works, 1 too thought him for those rea- 
sons, at least well worthy to be He whom God was at 
this time to send into the world. But then other things 
caused doubt. Why, if he was the Christ, did he not 
openly and with a loud voice so declare himself? 
Whom should he fear? Were he the Christ indeed, 
who would receive him so gladly as the Jews of every 
sect ? Even Herod would have laid aside his hostility, 
would he have but assumed the state that should mark 
the Christ. Was it the Romans he should fear ? ' What 
were they to one whose arm was the arm of God ? 
They truly would have had a controversy with one who 
claimed of them the sovereignty of Israel. But could 
not he, at whose word the son of the widow of Nain 
came forth from the grave, summon forces before which 
those of any earthly power must fail ? Were Jesus the 
Christ, why when we have urged him to do so hath he 
steadfastly refused to give a sign, which we could not 
doubt, that he was so — a sign in the Heavens, or in en- 
terprises he should set on foot, or in those demonstra- 
tions of kingly rank and power to which not one would 
refuse his faith ? These he hath not given, but mocked 
our urgency with the figure of Jonah, who having been 
three days in the whale, so he in like manner should be 
three days in the centre of the earth — a riddle which 
none can read. Jesus, moreover, hath violated the re- 
quirements of the Law, setting it at naught, which he 
who came to restore and magnify the Law could never 
do. The Sabbath is to him as another day for the free- 
dom with which he sets aside its requirements in favor 
of that which he may wish to do, saying, that its ob- 
servance should beind to many of the necessities of man 


200 


JULIAN. 


— which truly many a Hebrew is already without in- 
struction, prone enough to do — but from the Messiah 
we should look to see its observance, as of all the Law, 
carried to a higher pitch,- and men taught how they may 
keep it even with the zeal of Ben Ezra of Caesarea, or 
Zadok of Beth-Harem, yet without hollowness or hypoc- 
risy. Why doth he cast contempt upon the Pharisees, 
the council, the chief men, the elders of Israel ? — among 
whom if there be some wicked, there are many right- 
eous, and on whom, he who came as our Redeemer 
would lean, whose aid he would seek, but by whose 
power, should they be provoked, must he miserably 
perish. Whence is it that Jesus, if Messiah, often when 
the Jewish opposers and disbelievers revile and re- 
proach him, is heard to declare, that if it be that they 
turn from him, another people, from the East and the 
West, the North and the South, shall come in and pos- 
sess the inheritance of the children of Abraham % that 
Gentiles and idolaters, accursed and hated of J ehovah, 
against whom in olden time his own arm was lifted ; 
shall now, in the age about to unfold, for which we have 
waited so long, receive the blessing and the honor, w T hile 
Israel shall be shut out, Jacob shall be counted as the 
heathen ? Why, as he now doth, claiming for himself 
the kingdom, goes he thus abroad as a wanderer with- 
out home, or power, or friends ? Why for his chief ad- 
visers and companions does he choose fishermen or pub- 
licans, or women that are of society, outcasts ] Why 
speaks he of sufferings that are inevitable, to overtake 
him — nay, for such things has he said — why speaks he 
of death, as if it were for him an inevitable lot, from 
which there can be no escape 1 Are these the marks of 


JULIAN. 


201 


Messiah ? The Messiah lives forever ! his kingdom is 
everlasting ! so say the Prophets. What shall we think 
of him, what must we believe, who, confronting the 
Prophets and setting them at naught, saith that he is 
the Christ who was to come, yet shall be no king, and 
shall die by the hands of violence] Verily while such 
shall be his language it is not difficult to foresee that 
such will be the end at which he shall arrive ; for al- 
ready are there those among the Pharisees, and of the 
Priests at Jerusalem who seek his life, and will have it, 
if human cunning and force can prevail against one en- 
dowed with such powers as those of J esus. They will 
not longer bear that, what they esteem as blasphemous 
perversions of the Prophets, shall be uttered in the 
hearing of the multitude, and the great, office of the 
Messiah of the J ewish people, brought down to the level 
where he would place it. 

“ When, during the long period that I have followed 
the steps of Jesus, I have sought him and conversed with 
him of these things, and have urged him to delay no 
longer, but if he be the Christ, to declare himself openly, 
he has said, that I have misconceived the nature of that 
office ; that he has come a teacher of divine truth, not a 
Prince and King ; that his office is to redeem mankind 
from sin, not to reign over them on the throne of Israel, 
and that he has long and often declared himself, but that 
the people will not understand or receive him. I have 
replied, that when the Prophets have spoken of the 
Christ, it hath been of him as the King of Israel and 
Judah, and it was impossible that the people, who have 
dwelt upon those promises so long, should look for any 
other person than such an one. He has answered, that 


202 


JULIAN. 


when the prophets speak of a kingdom they have in- 
tended a kingdom not of force, but of truth and right- 
eousness, of peace and love ; and then he hath gone on 
and painted, as a picture before the eye, the felicity of 
coming ages when men should be wholly swayed by the 
love of God, and ceasing to desire any other conquest, 
should be satisfied with a victory over themselves and 
over sin. I have freely acknowedged the greatness and 
excellency of what he hath thus said, and the blessings 
inconceivable, that would be conferred upon Israel by the 
prevalence and dominion of such a faith, but have added, 
that as Jews we were bound to be governed by oui 
Scriptures and the Law given by Moses, and that while 
they stood and we revered them, and held by their 
teaching, we could believe no otherwise, than as we had 
done. It was not one only, but the whole people who, 
for so many ages, and now more than ever because their 
oppressions were great and the set time had come, in 
the Christ looked for a King and Saviour ; and should so 
many wise and righteous men have been left in so great 
an error 1 He answered, that it was the temper of the 
people, their desire of a certain thing, that had caused 
them so long to misjudge the Prophets, and to believe 
only a part of what they had said ; but if they would 
hearken as well to Isaiah as to Daniel and Moses, they 
would learn and would believe that the Christ was to be 
a sufferer rather than one who was to enjoy prosperity, 
to be a servant rather than a monarch. And then he 
expounded that long Scripture, where the Prophet speaks 
of one enduring many things, and at last, as a lamb was 
led to the slaughter, suffering death itself for the sins of 
the people, that by his stripes they might be healed, an 1 


JULIAN. 


203 


said that it was all spoken of the Messiah, who can found 
his new kingdom of righteousness only by first passing 
through suffering and death. I answered, that what he 
had said was so contrary to the present belief and hopes 
of the nation, that they never would receive it; they 
would set the united voice of a whole people against his, 
which was but that of a single person, and abide by it. 
To receive the doctrine he had delivered was more im- 
possible to the Jew than even to deny and blaspheme 
Moses and the Prophets. The Jew was now looking for 
his redemption and the glorious coming of the Deliverer, 
and he would sooner renounce his name than forego the 
hopes which give to that name its highest honor. He 
only answered with sighing, that the heart of the people 
was too much set upon such hopes ever to believe in him, 
and it would only be when his death had opened their 
eyes and softened their hearts, that the truth would break 
upon them. 

“ These and many other things did we discourse of, in 
all which, he showed himself to me, as to the people, 
gentle and compassionate, not looking that one should on 
the instant renounce his present persuasions, but rather 
willing to wait till truth should enter in its own way and 
time, overcoming one by one and without force the 
errors or prejudices of the mind. It is only toward the 
Pharisees, and even the baser sort among them, to whom 
he ever speaks in tones of angry reproof — men who ap- 
proach him only to pervert his speech and stir up against 
him the passions of the multitude. 

“ And, Julian, do you now doubt where stands Onias 1 
Yet am I filled with admiration even as I was at first 
with the virtues and character of Jesus. But sure am I, 


204 


JULIAN. 


at the same time, that he deceiveth himself, that he mis- 
construeth the Prophets, and while he vainly thinketh 
himself to be the Christ, is indeed perhaps in the coun- 
sels of God, Elias, or the prophet, who should go before 
— whether to announce Herod or some other, who can 
tell ? As the Christ of God — the promised Messiah, I 
reject and deny him ! and this notwithstanding his birth, 
the voice at his baptism, and his miracles. He agreeth 
not with the Prophets. He is not that Great One. While 
he claims to be so, he is as one blinded, and led by the 
blind. He deceiveth his own soul ; and the foolish peo- 
ple, who have no power to discern their right hand from 
their left, throng him and with their worship and flattery 
help to increase the mischievous delusion. They give 
their faith to him, and he giveth his faith to them. They 
believe he will yet show himself their king, and he be- 
lieveth that, in some mysterious manner, he shall yet be 
ruler and king over them. But did they clearly compre- 
hend what the kingdom is which, as I judge, he meaneth 
when he speaks of one, many fewer would there be to 
put their hope in him. They, however, can understand 
no such thing ; but stand waiting each moment for the 
time when he shall shine forth in the glory of his new 
authority. 

“ Of Herod’s affairs, I scarcely need write to thee, 
since thou hast forsaken him. Yet will I say, that never 
have they seemed so prosperous as now. Allied now to 
one whose inward power is hardly less than that of the 
Great Herod, and every way equal to that of Antipas, 
to one moreover who is of the same royal house, the 
alien and the heathen being banished, as is fit, from the 
land of the elect of God, what prospect of success and 


JULIAN. 


205 


glory opens not before him 1 John, who alone dared to 
lift up his voice against the king, reaps his reward in the 
dungeons of Machserus, while his foolish followers wan- 
der about as sheep who have lost their shepherd, some 
of them having resorted to Jesus, but the greater part 
still holding together as a society by themselves, not less 
hostile toward the rival of their master, Jesus, than 
toward the persecutor, as they judge him, of their mas- 
ter, Herod. But from them nothing is to be appre- 
hended. They are few and weak. And concerning Jesus, 
though it is certain that now the greater part of the peo- 
ple are with him, and by his virtues and powers he hath 
bound them to himself through their reverence and love 
of his character, and the expectation of advantage from 
his miracles, and of every kind of good so soon as he 
shall enter upon his glory, yet is it equally certain that 
all the persons in authority, the leaders of the Pharisees, 
the principal Scribes, the Priests at Jerusalem, and the 
council, are with utmost bitterness opposed to him, and 
seek his destruction. Though the smaller body they are 
the more powerful, and will doubtless in the end prevail. 
Herod, moreover, by his letters and his messengers con- 
tinually stirreth them up and infuses a new hostility ; 
not that they need urging to a work into which they 
throw themselves of their own accord, and with all the 
force inspired by a temper of revenge for injury and 
disappointed hopes. Herod might well have pursued 
his first plan, and intermeddled not, for without his aid, 
no one thing, not already come to pass, can be more cer- 
tain than that the enraged Pharisees will soon accomplish 
the destruction of Jesus. Already have they directed 
the suspicions of Pilate and the Roman authorities 
Vol. II.— 18 


206 


JULIAN. 


against him, as one who plots revolt in the state — as one 
who in secret speaks of a kingdom here in Judea, which 
he has been commissioned to set up, which is to swallow 
up all other kingdoms, until it becomes universal. These 
things and many more of the same kind have been re- 
ported to Pilate and the powers in Rome, but without 
any immediate effect, such as was desired ; for the Pro- 
curator, upon diligent inquiry through those who have 
followed Jesus, has declared that he finds no ground of 
accusation in what they have reported, the language of 
Jesus having no regard, so far as they could learn, to 
any Power that is to be set up and established in Judea, 
but to some mysterious institutions, of which no clear 
idea could be formed, except that they seemed to have 
respect rather to what concerns the right conduct of life 
and the founding of a kingdom of righteousness, than to 
enterprises that would interfere with the Laws of the 
Empire. Nevertheless, though little may be now appre- 
hended, the suspicions of Rome have been excited toward 
him, and it will be wonderful indeed, if they should not 
beget the consequences which suspicions once engendered 
rarely fail to do. Although, Julian, I have not as yet, 
myself engaged in any action against Jesus or his disci- 
ples, yet can I not lament, but must rejoice that ere long 
he will fall before the many enemies that are gathering 
around him, and so the way be left clear and unob- 
structed for the exalting of the rightful king. The 
Scribes and the Rulers, who on the first appearance of 
Jesus were so prompt to believe, thinking that He had 
come who should confirm them in their honors and raise 
them higher, in their vexation and rage that Jesus has 
courted them not, but publicly assailed them and exposed 


JULIAN. 


207 


their errors and as it were expelled them from the king- 
dom, whatever it may be which he came to found, will 
without aid from any quarter, accomplish his ruin.” 

Such was the language of Onias at this time. 

Greatly did I desire once more to visit Judea, but the 
same reasons prevailed to keep me in Rome. Yet with 
such frequency did I receive intelligence of the whole 
life and doings of Jesus from Onias and Judith, that 
scarcely could I have known more had I myself been a 
follower of the Prophet. From these letters I would 
willingly transfer large portions, but must forbear. Es- 
pecially would it please me to present here the many 
letters of Judith, in which it would be seen how deeply 
and how truly she penetrated, and comprehended the 
character of Jesus — with some remaining errors indeed 
— and the nature of the services which it was his pur- 
pose to perform for his nation and the world, of which 
so few, hardly even his nearest followers, comprehended 
the least, but which time has since revealed to all. But 
these also must be passed by. 

It was about the time of the Feast of Dedication, that 
Judith wrote thus. 

“When we thought that the wonders concerning 
Jesus had come to an end, new ones have unfolded to 
perplex and astonish us. We now sit still, waiting to 
behold what shall be the issue ; for in vain, utterly in 
vain, were it for the hand of man — though that of He- 
rod, or of a thousand Herods — to be raised, while the 
visible hand of God reveals itself over the whole length 
and breadth of Israel. In very deed doth God now 
dwell on earth! When John appeared we deemed that 


208 


JULIAN. 


a prophet had surely arisen. When Jesus was pro- 
claimed by a voice from Heaven, we could not doubt 
that one greater than any who had gone before had 
come. But what shall we say now, when of those "who 
have been the near followers of Jesus, his chosen dis- 
ciples, a multitude as it were, possessing the same 
power as Jesus to heal diseases, to drive out devils, to 
raise the dead have proceeded forth from him and pene- 
trated every region of the land, preaching the kingdom 
of God, that it is now nigh at hand, and to show that 
they preach with the authority of Jesus and God, work- 
ing the most surprising miracles wherever they go? 
The people are in amazement. Save a few, all believe 
that now the kingdom will shortly appear, and Jesus 
reign in Israel. ‘What else,’ they say, ‘can mean so 
astonishing a preparation ? W ere the heavens and their 
hosts to fall on the earth or to pass away, the event 
were not more wonderful than the things that have hap- 
pened among us, and to what other end can they point 
than the founding of that kingdom to which, for these 
thousand years, the whole people of Israel have been 
constantly looking ? We no longer doubt that our eyes, 
even ours, shall now behold the salvation of Israel, the 
redemption of Judah. We indeed cannot tell why he, 
who shall so soon sit upon the throne of David, who 
utters the wisdom of God, and doth the works of God, 
still appeareth as a servant. Neither can we tell why 
he prophesieth suffering and pain and even death as to 
overtake himself. This confounds us ; but while things 
so wonderful of another kind, and which are evidently 
of God, are taking place, we are content to wait in re- 
spect to other matters, and trust that We shall in due 


JULIAN. 


209 


time be made to know clearly what now perplexes us.’ 
Thus judge and speak the great multitude of the people. 
Many of the chief men also and Rulers believe in J esus, 
and but for shame or fear would openly confess him. I 
hear of those who, both in Jerusalem and elsewhere, 
have gone to him secretly, with the purpose to inquire 
into his designs and unite themselves to his cause. Fain 
would the people compel him to declare himself and 
make no more tarrying, but assume the place they are 
sure is his, and raise Israel to her proper glory. And 
alas ! why will he not do so 1 How incomprehensible 
is the delay ! All men stand waiting, all are sure that 
he who can do the works of Jesus, and who hath now 
bestowed the same power upon so many, can be no 
other than the Son of God, the king of Israel ; yet to- 
day is as yesterday, and he still refuseth to hearken to 
our entreaties — he still wanders through the land, scat- 
tering indeed the light of his truth and his virtues every- 
where, but is otherwise as if he were the servant of ser- 
vants, soiled with the way, overcome by fatigue, often 
insulted by those set on by the Priests, having not 
.where to abide in peace. 

“ But why have I delayed so long to tell you that he 
hath of late been in the Persea, and on the banks of the 
Jordan, continuing a long time in the villages round 
about ; that among other places he hath visited Beth- 
Harem ; and that when there, exercising his power of 
healing upon the sick and the possessed, the lame and 
blind, he restored to sight and soundness the father of 
our Ruth ! In vain had Ruth persuaded and urged that 
he should go up to Jerusalem ; his desire of life was 
too little to tempt him so far, on so doubtful an errand. 
18* o 


210 


JULIAN. 


But when it came to be certain that J esus would soon 
arrive in Beth-Harem, then he declared that if that hap- 
pened, he would seek his help. He did so. And no 
sooner did the benevolent Jesus behold him and his 
wretched state, Ruth sitting at his side, and by her 
countenance saying more than any words could utter, 
no sooner did he hear his declaration, ‘ Sir, I believe ; I 
believe that thou art from God,’ than he touched him, 
the word was spoken, and he was restored whole and 
fair, as when he was a merchant of Tyre. It were vain 
to describe the joy of Ruth when she beheld her father, 
as she had not beheld him since the days of her extreme 
youth. Aloud they gave thanks to God and Jesus, 
when they saw what was done, and declared their readi- 
ness to follow him wheresoever he should go. But he 
only desired them, to live unto God, and the times 
would show them what they should do. 

“They returned with us to our dwelling, and this 
great restoration was celebrated in the evening by feast- 
ing, dancing, and music, and by the presence of all oUr 
friends from Beth-Harem — excepting Zadok alone, who, 
believing that the powers of Jesus, or professing so to 
believe, are of the Devil, held it impious in us to re- 
ceive aid from such a source, as it would be also in him 
to rejoice with us in what had been done. But beside 
him all were with us — and for the last time, Saturninus, 
who, now soon by the requisition of the Procurator, 
departs with his soldiers for Jerusalem. He also, Ju- 
lian, hath become a believer in Jesus, so far as one can 
believe in Jesus, who believes not first in Moses and 
the Prophets. Though he understands not much of our 
expectations of a Messiah, and considers not Jesus at all 


JULIAN. 


211 


in regard to that office, he yet acknowledges in him a 
divine power and authority, and doubts not that he has 
come from God to be a teacher and reformer of man- 
kind. His wisdom he had highly esteemed as he had 
perused it in the sayings, the parables, and discourses, I 
had from many sources gathered together, and deemed 
it well worthy to proceed from a divine instructor, but 
it was not until he had himself often witnessed the 
works which he did, that he received him as a teacher 
come from God. As such he now readily acknowledges 
him. I wait impatiently for the time when he shall re- 
ceive Moses and the Law also, and Jesus, as not only a 
teacher come from God, but the Christ of Israel. 

“ It was on this same evening there was present with 
us one, who having been long time a disciple and com- 
panion of Jesus, had turned from him at length, and 
ceased to have faith in him. He was from Bethabara, 
and even from the very first had been with him. Al- 
though it was to me a thing not to be explained, how 
one who had companied with Jesus so long should for- 
sake him, yet I was glad, seeing there was such an one, 
to be able to converse w ith him, to discover why he had 
deserted the society and cause of one who had every 
day given farther and higher proofs of his being the Son 
of God. ‘ Have you not,’ I asked, ‘ found that in the 
company of Jesus, for which you sought 1 ?’ 

“ 4 By no means,’ he answered. 

“ 4 But,’ said I, 4 you found wisdom and truth, gentle- 
ness and humanity in Jesus, and were these no bonds to 
hold you.’ 

“ 4 1 cannot deny,’ he answered, 4 that I found all these ; 


212 


JULIAN. 


and whatever other virtues you may name, they were 
all there.’ 

“ ‘ Did you then,’ said Onias, ‘ doubt the works of 
Jesus 1 Saw you any reason to think them not works 
of God V 

“ * Surely not,’ he replied, ‘ whoever shall consort with 
Jesus as I have done, will have the same persuasion that 
one so good and pure as he could have no communion 
with evil spirits, that he has, that the light of the Sun 
and the rains of Heaven and the flowers of the field 
come not from them — from none save God. Yet at the 
same time that he believes this, will he believe with 
equal strength, that he is not the Christ, as he declares 
himself to be, and as they who have joined him at first 
believed him to be.’ 

“ ‘ Yet,’ said I, * the greater part of those who first 
joined him still remain with him ; and as for the people 
at large, whereas but few at first were persuaded that he 
was the Christ, now, since these new wonders have come 
abroad and the works of Jesus have been so many, all 
Israel, save the Priests and Scribes^ believe that he is 
the Messiah who should come, and that so in due time 
will he declare himself to the shame of all gainsayers, 
doubters, and deniers.’ 

“ He answered and said, ‘ that they who stand at a 
distance, and see and know only a part, cannot judge in 
such a case so well as those who are near and see more 
and with more exactness. Whose faith' was firmer than 
mine, when forsaking family and the affairs of life, I be* 
came a follower of J esus ? I was fain to think that in 
J esus I beheld the long expected deliverer ; for in him 
l noted the signs of a prophet mighty in word and in 


JULIAN. 


213 


deed and like unto Moses; his words were with au- 
thority, his life was holy, and his works surely, were 
those of God. It needed not reasoning and argument 
to produce conviction in my mind, I believed at first, as 
I did at last with all the force of my mind that he was 
a man from God. But was it for that, — because he was 
a man from God that we had joined ourselves unto him ? 
was it for the works he could do? not so; but as you 
well know because we deemed him the chosen of God, 
our Deliverer and King.’ 

“ ‘ And why,’ asked I, ‘ do you refuse to believe him 
such? Is there any other in whom Israel may place 
such hope ?’ 

“ 1 If there is not,’ he replied, ‘ then may Israel well 
renounce all hope ; for there is none in him, Not only 
have we who forsook all and followed him derived no 
advantage from our fidelity, but no prospect opens of 
such advantage in the future. Though , we, who stood 
nearest him, have pressed him to declare himself, and 
lift up the standard that should show him Christ, though 
on all sides men throng him and urge him to delay no 
longer, but assume his throne, he hearkens not to us— 
nor only that — he sternly rebukes all such desires of 
honor, saying, that all who follow him with such desires 
will fail of their end — that instead of honor and worldly 
gain, they must rather look to deny themselves, and 
renounce even the common enjoyments of life ; that in- 
stead of exercising authority over others, they must 
rather look for persecution and oppression ; that life 
will be more likely to be lost in his service than gained. 
Then, when his discourse is not of this sort, subverting 
all the notions this ueople entertain of the looked for 


214 


J ULIAK. 


Messiah, it is often dark and perplexing, so that when 
we hear we understand it not. To all which, of late, 
hath been added a frequent prophecy of his own suffer- 
ings and death, and of danger and suffering to all who 
are joined with him, so that it became clear to us, that 
whoever else he might be, he is not the Christ of God, 
and that declaring himself to be so, he knew not his own 
office, and so having deceived himself, was ignorantly 
the cause of deceiving others also. For his holiness and 
his works willingly would I have remained with him ; 
but having followed him not for these, but for other 
things quite different, to which these indeed might be 
additions, but the want of which they could not supply, 
it only remained to renounce a cause which no longer 
stood approved to our judgments. Many with me went 
back and walked no more with him.’ 

“‘You receive not then,’ I asked, ‘ the charges of the 
malicious among the Jews, that he is mad and hath a 
Devil V 

“ ‘ Surely not,’ he answered ; ‘ his words are not those 
of one that hath a Devil, albeit they were sometimes 
such as we understood not ; and for his miracles, though 
doubtless, such works may be done by wicked spirits, 
we were sure of nothing more, than that they were of 
God. Would he only have granted what we asked, a 
sign, namely, that he was the Messiah whom we sought, 
never should we have forsaken him ; but while he still 
called himself the Christ, he would give no such sign as 
we required ; so, how therefore could we believe ? He 
would have us to believe that the Christ was one who 
should teach excellent things, rebuke sin, reform the 
lives of men, and build up a universal kingdom of truth 


JULIAN. 


215 


and holiness ; but often as he thus discoursed, and 
prophesied of the future, and that in completing his de- 
signs both he himself and we his followers should meet 
with opposition, suffering, and death perhaps, we could 
not receive doctrines so contrary to the prophets, and 
to what from our youth, we had been taught and had 
believed. We could only withdraw from one who 
seemed misled by dreams — deceived or deceiving. We 
were ready to take upon ourselves all the dangers that 
would have come from the Romans, would he but have 
yielded to our importunities. There seems now, noth- 
ing left to those who hope for Israel, but that they 
should join themselves to Herod.’ 

“ ‘ And have the greater part of those,’ I asked, ‘ who 
with thyself attended upon his steps, also abandoned 
him V 

“ 4 No,’ he replied, ‘ they are still with him, hoping 
and believing still. Which to me is astonishing. For 
what hope can there be longer, when so often as hath 
already happened, his disciples, and the multitude to- 
gether with them, have been ready as it were by force 
to make him king, and he hath still refused 'l What can 
be done more for his exaltation than has been done? 
The loss and the ruin be upon his own head !’ 

“ ‘ There they will be,’ said Onias ; 4 the patience of 
those, who, having regard to the virtues and innocence 
of Jesus, have forborne to do aught in opposition, while 
he hath this long time claimed to be the Christ, yet hath 
not shown himself as such, is well nigh spent, and when 
it shall be wholly, the fierceness of the rebuke of those 
whom he hath deceived, will be in proportion to the 
hopes that have been fed, only to be mocked. Other 


216 


JULIAN. 


enterprises that, as I believe, would have joined all Israel 
together in one phalanx have been postponed, have been 
arrested mid-way, that we might learn what should be 
the issue of this coming of the Nazarene ; and now be- 
hold the issue !’ 

“ I saw that the passions of Onias, with difficulty re- 
strained of late, as they have been worked upon more and 
more by Zadok, were kindling, and said, ‘ Perhaps this is 
not the issue ; Jesus himself, as we hear, still points to 
the future, and of late there have been grander demon- 
strations than ever before of the power with which he 
hath been entrusted.’ 

“ Onias only answered, ‘ We have been kept waiting 
long enough ; we have seen miracles enough. Let him 
now look to himself.’ 

“ Onias, with the stranger, then arose, and together dis- 
appeared among the deep shadows of the house. 

“ The festivities were prolonged to a late hour. You 
would have rejoiced to behold the happiness of Ruth 
hanging about her father, with all her joy breaking 
through her countenance, or else testifying the usual 
exhilaration of her spirits in the swift mazes of the 
dance. This sudden increase of happiness and good 
fortune, seems to have no ill effect upon her character, 
but, on the contrary, draws forth and gives prominence 
to some parts of it which before were too little seen. 

“ One thing only was mentioned, in our long conver- 
sation with the disciple of Jesus, that seemed contrary 
to the common opinion which all entertain of his good- 
ness. It concerns the imprisonment of John the Baptist, 
who since the month preceding the Feast of Tabernacles, 
has now lain in the dungeons of Machserus. We learned 


JULIAS'. 


217 


from this disciple, that though Jesus had often been im- 
portuned by the disciples of John, and by his own, to 
interpose and deliver him, for it was feared that Herod, 
set on by Herodias, would destroy him, he would not 
comply with any such request ; and that though John 
himself had sent messengers to him asking, if he were 
really the promised Messiah, thereby conveying the 
knowledge that himself was in prison, and expressing 
his astonishment, that if Jesus were that great person, 
he would do nothing for his release, yet neither would 
he take any notice of such messages, but was willing to 
leave the Baptist still in prison and at the mercy of the 
king. This conduct of Jesus, we were told, had filled all 
his followers with surprise ; inasmuch as they, knowing 
the powers of Jesus, were persuaded that if he had 
chosen to exert them, it would have been but the work 
of a moment to effect his deliverance. They could not 
understand why one so virtuous as John, and who had 
in the beginning given his testimony so fully in behalf 
of Jesus, should not in return experience benefits at the 
hands of Jesus which it would be so easy to confer. 
Why Jesus hath been willing to act such a part I cannot 
explain any more than they, yet doubtless this may be 
said, that although he has not as yet interposed, he has 
not refused to do so, and may at some future time; but 
although he should never do so, I could still believe, 
that one of so much goodness as Jesus, of w r hose good- 
ness all Israel has had knowledge and experience, would 
have reasons, we should judge, sufficient, to give for 
withholding his aid, could we only arrive at a knowledge 
of them. 

“ It was also evident, from what this disciple said, that 
Vol. II.— 19 


218 


JULIAN. 


the doubts which had been expressed by J ohn concerning 
Jesus, whether he were indeed the Messiah, had greatly 
affected the body of his followers, who were led by it 
themselves into new and more serious doubts. If John, 
w r hom all had been accustomed to regard as a prophet, 
now questioned the claims of Jesus, and was disposed to 
deny them, and to hint that we must wait yet longer, 
for some other to arise, much less, it was said, can we 
believe without some misgivings. Yet, to set against 
these doubts of John, there were miracles more aston- 
ishing than ever — not only on the part of Jesus himself, 
but on the part of his chosen disciples also. Such de- 
monstrations of power, and of his close connection with 
God, through whom he had conferred such gifts upon 
his disciples, made it clear that there w T as no greatness 
or office which he had not as yet assumed, to which he 
might not with reason aspire, and reach. It seemed to 
rest with himself whether he continued as he was, or 
seized the throne of Judea, or in addition to that, the 
sovereignty of Rome, and the empire of the world it- 
self! What could he not attempt and accomplish, to 
whose command seem to be obedient all the forces of 
nature? Never, Julian, can I doubt whether this man. 
so endowed, is he for whom we look. Of our Christ he 
has all the marks, save only those of outward greatness 
and authority ; and how easily at any moment may 
he arise and clothe himself with these? And, in the 
**tean time, while we wait for this, we behold his perfect 
character and life, we profit by his divine wisdom, we 
hear the wonderful things he teaches of the future life 
and glory of man, of God and the true worship which 
he requires. All Israel rejoices in his presence and in 


JULIAN. 


*219 


the benefits of his works. And for me, though he added 
nothing to what he has already done, though after hav- 
ing instructed us by his truth and his example, after 
having rebuked the Pharisees, purged the Temple ser- 
vice, restored the Law, and abolished the Traditions, he 
should do nothing more, but end his life with the name 
and praise only of a Prophet in Israel, and a benefactor 
of those with whom he lived, dying then as others die, 
or else, mayhap, being translated, as w r ere Enoch and 
Elijah, not knowing the pains of death, I should be well 
content, and bless God that he had come, and that Israel 
had been permitted to rejoice in his light. But I doubt 
not, for one moment, that we shall see more than this ; 
that our eyes, even ours, shall behold the salvation of 
our God ; that this Jesus shall not only save us from 
our sins, but redeem us also out of the hand of our 
enemies. 

Thus did it appear plain, that Judith’s faith in Jesus 
faltered not, but that in the face of so many things un- 
favorable and discouraging to one, who, like her, could 
look before and behind, she still believed that Jesus 
would fulfil all the hopes he had raised. It was not sur- 
prising, that the multitudes, who for the most part looked 
no further than the miracles, which were now performed 
in greater numbers and splendor than ever, cleaved to 
him ; and, looking rather at what they desired than at 
what it was reasonable for them to expect, trusted still 
against all adverse signs, that it was he who should re- 
deem Israel. For them it was enough that Jesus con- 
tinued to give proofs so astonishing, that God was with 
him ; while such power and favor -were his. all seemed 


220 


JULIAN. 


to be within his reach, and they doubted not in one way 
or another, sooner or later they would succeed in their 
endeavors to place him where they desired him. They 
could not oppose to his miracles, the true nature and 
tendencies of his doctrine, and the spirit of his character 
and life, which made it so plain to me, that whatever 
else he might be, he never would show himself to be the 
Christ for wdiom we look. No two things, differing from 
each other never so much, seemed to me so contrary the 
one to the other, as Jesus and the Christ. To Judith, 
however, these things did not present themselves so 
strongly, but as her letter shows, She persuaded herself, 
that in some manner, not by any one to be foreseen or 
described, he would continue to manifest himself the 
teacher and prophet whom she could love, and by whose 
labors and instructions the hearts of the people were to 
be changed, and in due time, when the preparation was 
complete, stand forth before Israel and the world, as the 
Messiah also. 

I now determined within myself, that so soon as the 
severity of the winter should be past I would again re- 
turn to Judea, and at Beth-Harem aw*ait what should be 
the issue of the wonderful events still taking place. It 
seemed from many things in the letters which I continued 
to receive, that by the people it w r as believed that some- 
what that should be decisive in regard to Jesus, would 
happen at the time of the Passover. It was indeed 
rumored, that Jesus had himself made such a declaration 
to his disciples, and that they also Were looking forward 
to that Feast, as to the hour that would crown their 
hopes with their long delayed fulfilment. Many things 


JULIAN. 


2*21 

therefore conspired to determine me to turn towards the 
East at that time. But while I waited for the season to 
arrive, when it would be proper to take my departure, I 
heard from Onias concerning John, what I was by no 
means surprised to hear, regarding it as hardly any other 
issue than what was natural and to be looked for. He 
thus wrote. 

“ Although we look to see you at the Passover, yet 
do I not intermit the intelligence it is our wont to im- 
part ; especially do I not delay to inform you of what 
has taken place at Machserus concerning John, and which 
hath ended in his destruction by Herod. 

“ I well know that at one time you, as well as myself, 
opposed the purposes of the Tetrarch when they aimed 
at the life, and even the injury of John ; in our judgment 
he was then in many ways doing more for than against 
his cause. I know not in what opinion your mind now 
rests, though I can well suppose, that having separated 
yourself from the affairs of Herod — again I trust to be 
joined to them, — you stand ready to CQndemn whatever 
measures he may have adopted to secure the ends at 
which he still aims. For myself, I am free to declare, 
that I think no longer as then, but that I now deem it 
right that so powerful an enemy as John of what we be- 
lieve to be the cause of Judea, should be cut off. If that 
at which Herod aims be, as I truly think it to be, the 
cause of God and Judea, then must those steps be justi- 
fied in the sight of God and the law, which are needful 
in order to arrive at the end, else we were like those, 
who, desiring to run a race, have first bound or cut off 
their feet. No advance could be made in the favor of 
the people while John was abroad, and though doubtless 
19 * 


222 


JULIAN. 


his continual confinement in Machserus might in some 
sort have served the same purpose, yet while he lived 
they who hoped in him once would still hope, and chance 
might have sent him once more his freedom, or Herod 
himself might have relented and bestowed it upon him. 
Wherefore it is better that he is dead, the rather as it 
was brought about more by others than by Herod him- 
self, so that if the people shall be disposed to a harsh 
judgment, it must light upon other shoulders than 
his.” 

“ For it fell out in this wise. In the same Egyptian 
Hall where, when we were at Machserus, Herod feasted 
his adherents, did he, so soon as Herodias reached that 
place, give a banquet in celebration of his birth-day, to 
all whom he could bring there from every part of the 
land. His chief officers of government, the great cap- 
tains of his armies, and all, who, by their presence, wmuld 
show that they were on his side, failed not to be there. 
I also was present. The splendors of the scene, when 
thou wast there, seem, as I think of them, but as shadows 
and darkness compared with those which now blazed all 
over Machserus. But the difference within the palace 
were well explained by only saying, that now there were 
present, arrayed in all the magnificence of the East, He- 
rodias and her daughter, whose beauty, of both the 
mother and the child, changed into dimness all the 
shining of lamp and jewelry, and far more than they, 
dazzled the senses of whosoever beheld them. There 
was now, when at the banquet, no silence and gloom, as 
before, but the joyful confusion of a thousand voices, of 
those who seemed contending with each other, which 
should express most loyalty toward the royal pair by 


JULIAN. 


223 


shout and song and the frequent pledging of the wine 
cup. 

“ Thus it continued until toward the middle of the 
feast, and every known pleasure had been enjoyed to the 
full, and little more could be looked for but such as 
should be a repetition of what had gone before, when 
behold ! as if to render the present banquet distinguished 
before all others, there suddenly entered the hall, prece- 
ded by a train of damsels, the daughter of Herodias, who, 
first approaching the throne of the astonished King, and 
craving his permission, then ascended what had been pre- 
viously prepared for the display, and there performed 
with a grace and power never seen in the dancing girls 
of this or any otheArogion, the most difficult dances of 
Egypt, of Greece, and the farther East, — what they are 
thou well knowest, — filling all who beheld her with 
wonder and most with delight, and who, as she paused 
now and then and the music ceased, rent the air with 
their shouts of applause. When this had been prolonged 
until, as it seemqjj to me, the dances of all nations had 
been performed, her maidens often joining her, or reliev- 
ing her, and Herod seemed beside himself with joy, being 
moreover well in his cups, as were also the others who 
were seated with him, he called out to her to draw nigh 
to him, and not knowing how else to declare his pleasure, 
cried out that no reward could be so great as she de- 
served, but promised her whatsoever she should ask of 
him, though it were a half of his kingdom, confirming 
what he said by oaths. The young girl upon that, with 
a modesty that won applause from all, even as her 
dancing had done, said, that having done nothing to de- 
serve the least reward, she could not ask what should 


224 


J ULIAN. 


diminish the posssessions of the King, either by the half 
of its value or the smallest portion thereof; she there- 
fore requested only what was of no value to Herod, the 
life, namely, of a violent and wicked man, already for- 
feit to the State, the fierce and constant enemy of her 
mother, and not less, as all Israel knew, of Herod him- 
self, and who was now a prisoner in Machasrus, — the life 
of John the Baptist. No sooner was this heard than 
loud cries of approbation arose from the tables, mingled 
with laughter and expressions of extreme astonishment 
also at the nature of the demand, when from the promise 
and the oath of the King, there was plainly no limit to 
what she might not with reason have exacted, and the 
King have been bound to bestow. Herod, though plainly 
troubled, that she had asked nothing which it would have 
agreed better with his magnificence to give, and express- 
ing some sorrow that the loss of. John had been required, 
was not yet at liberty to take back what he had prom- 
ised, so he at once gave the sign to his attendants, who 
quickly went and returned bringing with them the head 
of the prophet, as some will continue to call him, which 
being delivered to Salome, and her train of maidens, 
they departed, bearing it with many noisy signs of satis- 
faction, to Herodias, who by her examination of it, was 
satisfied that it was indeed the head of her enemy.” 

“Thus perished John, who in my present judgment 
should have perished long before. And thus may all 
others perish, who thrust themselves in between Israel 
and the accomplishment of her great designs! Doubt- 
less, Julian, Jesus will fall in like manner. Already 
many times has his life been sought, and that too by 
Herod, so that many places have become dangerous to 


JULIAN. 


225 


him, and he hath taken refuge now in the dominions of 
Philip, and now in the desert places beyond Jordan. 
But as he changeth not his manner of speech, but still 
cries out against the chief men of the nation, still claims 
to be the Christ, while he prophesieth against Israel and 
for the Gentile, the same passions rage against him, and 
will rage until they gain their end. It is not his power 
to work miracles, nor the mad worship of the rabble 
that will save him ; unless indeed, performing such 
wonders in behalf of others, he, when the occasion 
comes, shall perform somewhat as surprising for him- 
self, and transport himself beyond the reach of his pur- 
suers. But thus much at least may be said for this 
strange person, that, while he is lavish of his bounties 
upon others, even the most wretched outcasts, he pro- 
vides nothing for himself, nor derives the least advan- 
tage from a power that would seem capable to furnish 
him not only with all the necessaries but the luxuries 
of life. Neither doth he seem to be guilty of any vice; 
for in this diligent inquiry hath been made, and many 
spies employed, that if such things were true, evidence 
might be had thereof, and witnesses found to accuse 
him. No earthly power, as I judge, can help him, un- 
less he depart from his present customs, or put forth 
his arm of God, and save himself. 

“Fail us not, Julian, at the Passover, when we shall 
surely look to see thee and converse of many things 
concerning which, with all our diligence, it is not pos-- 
sible to write. I shall still hope to see thee again joined 
to the cause of the only one who hath power to save 
us.” 


p 


226 


JULIAN. 


This was the letter of Onias concerning John. I was 
not surprised at his fate ; I rather wondered that Herod 
had refrained from his life so long, w r hen there existed 
so many causes of anger, so many reasons why he must 
desire his destruction. And I did not believe what 
Onias seemed to set forth, as if believed by him, that it 
was w r ith any regret that the King consented to the 
death of John, and gave the orders for his execution. 
Had he not rather rejoiced in an opportunity for his de- 
struction, which presented others before the world as 
the immediate authors of his death, and so shielded him- 
self, he might easily have recalled an engagement made 
in haste, in his cups moreover, from which the world 
would readily, as he must have known, have held him 
excused, especially as the breaking of his word in one 
direction would have been accompanied by an act of 
magnificence towards Salome, that would have been 
more than keeping it in another. In words he would 
have broken it ; while in its spirit he would have more 
than kept it. This was so plain to me, that no convic- 
tion could be stronger than that Herod rejoiced in the 
happy chance that rid him, so easily to himself, of an 
old and dangerous foe. 

Being now determined to revisit Judea, and to be 
present at the Passover in Jerusalem, I waited with im- 
patience for the passing away of the winter months; 
and the more, as the means of transmitting letters by 
reason of the violence of the season were greatly dimin- 
ished. I rarely heard of what took place in Judea after 
the letter of Onias just given, which came not long after 
the Feast of Dedication. And if it was so with me, 


JULIAN. 


227 


how was it to those of my countrymen in Rome, who 
were not bound by the living ties which connected me 
with the holy land, — and how was it with the propel 
Roman population of this vast capital 1 ? What knew 
they, what could they know of what was doing in Gali- 
lee, on the Jordan, at Machaerus, in Beth-Harem? Not 
a sound reached their ear; and though Jesus was there 
doing the greatest works of his life, the rumor of them 
was scarcely heard by these multitudes so remote, but 
what is much worse, so engaged by the affairs of a vast 
Empire and a tumultuous capital. 

Spring at length approached, the Tiber opened his 
gates of ice, the imprisoned and impatient coursers of 
the sea broke loose from their bondage and set on their 
way toward all the ports of the known earth, bearing 
with them the luxuries of Roman art or her gold, to 
bring back in return the vegetable products or the rude 
manufacture of the half-civilized nations of Asia and 
Africa. It was on board a trader, bound to Caesarea, 
that I embarked, and, after a quick and fortunate voy- 
age, found myself once more entering the arms of her 
colossal port. No sooner had I left the ship with my 
effects, than I departed for Beth-Harem ; and, that I 
might renew former pleasures, travelled the same wind- 
ing road. as before; again stopped to be refreshed at 
the cottage among the hills near Samaria, and again 
slept at the Inn of the complaisant Jael. 

Of all that it now remains for me to say concerning 
the days passed in Judea, the record will be found in 
fragments of letters written, after my arrival at Beth* 
Harem, to Naomi in Rome. 


228 


JULIAN. 


XX. 


I cannot easily tell you, my mother, with what pleas- 
ure I found myself again beneath the roofs of Beth- 
Harem ; again seated where I was wont to sit and write 
to thee — overlooking the vineyards of Onias, the Jor- 
dan, and the distant hills ; or else walking on the banks 
of the river, with Judith, my old companion ; or sitting 
on the house-top at the evening hour, between her and 
Onias, conversing of the times and the prospects, open- 
ing or closing before us. I find that my true home is now, 
and must henceforth be in J udea. I can never again 
dwell in Rome. And I doubt not, my mother, that 
when the aspect of affairs here shall become more set- 
tled, and it shall be determined concerning Jesus and 
Herod, whether either of them or neither shall reign in 
Israel, you will stand ready, as indeed your promises 
have assured me you will, to leave Rome behind, and 
pass the decline of life here in the land of our Fathers 
— and we will hope under the reign of some native 
prince, if not beneath the rule of Messiah himself. 

But of this I will speak hereafter ; I am now to tell 
you of whatever takes place here in Beth-Harem con- 
cerning our household, or in Judea concerning Jesus. 

I find Judith occupied only by one thought, that 
of Jesus, and the probable events of the Passover. 
Though she will not admit that she doubts whethei 


J ULIAN. 


22b 


Jesus will confirm her hopes by assuming his proper 
rank at the feast, yet is it evident, that her fears, or ap- 
prehensions, outweigh and outrun her hopes, for her 
countenance is ever anxious ; and when her thought, or 
her conversation dwells more especially on these themes, 
its expression is melancholy and sad. I asked her of 
the progress he had made since the last letters I had 
received, and whether more or fewer miracles than be- 
fore had been performed. 

“Julian,” she answered, “had God himself walked 
among us in bodily shape, and powers of healing had 
flowed out from the glance of his eye, or the air in 
which he moved, or the touch of his garments, the 
effects that had followed would not have been more as- 
tonishing than the new wonders that have been wrought 
by Jesus, either in respect to their number, or their 
greatness. Wherever he hath moved have miracles 
been witnessed, such as have filled all with amazement, 
and from all have drawn the same exclamation, 4 who 
shall this be but the Christ V ” 

“ And you also have followed him,” I said. 

“Not constantly,” she replied, “as have some; as 
now do Mary of Magdala and Joanna, the wife of 
Chuza” — 

“ She is then a disciple at last,” I exclaimed. 

“No one more devoted and sincere,” replied, Judith. 
“It was long before the late feast, that withdraw- 
ing from the service of Herod, with whom— then at 
length, the open enemy and persecutor of Jesus, plot- 
ting even against his life — she would no longer remain, 
she obeyed the desires of her heart, and joined the num- 
ber of those who followed Jesus, hearing him whenevei 
Vol. II.— 20 


230 


JULIA*. 


she could, and whenever he tarried long in any one city, 
resorting thither, her husband w*ith her, but not as yet, 
like her, a believer. For myself,” continued Judith, “ I 
went not far from Beth-Harem ; but when Jesus drew 
nigh, in the lower parts of Galilee, and especially while 
he sojourned here on the Jordan, and in the nearer re- 
gions of the Persea, thou wilt not doubt that I was then 
with him, Ruth being ever my companion.” 

“And after seeing and hearing for thyself, Judith, 
how stands thy faith V* 

“ In the very strength of God !” she replied. 

“ And with no accompanying doubt 1” 

“ With none,” she answered. “ Whether,” she added, 
after a pause, “ it be reasonable so to believe and trust, 
I know not ; but so it is, after what I have beheld of the 
powers of Jesus, and have heard of his doctrine, I be- 
lieve in him perforce, even as I believe in God. The 
works of God, the Heavens wifh their hosts declare him 
their maker and supporter ; and so also the works of 
Jesus declare him to be of God, clothed with so much 
of a divine power as is needful to do such things. And 
when such an one proclaims himself, whether plainly or 
obscurely to be the Christ, shall not his declaration be 
received 1 I know not how to refuse it. W ould it not 
be to say that God can speak falsely 1” 

“ It would, indeed,” I answered. “ Yet many of his 
most constant followers take offence at his speech, and 
forsake him, or are in doubt.” 

“ I see not what they would have ;” Judith replied. 
“ He indeed now speaks of his death as about to hap- 
pen — many think at the approaching feast, but then he 
declares at the same time, that death shall not injure 


JULIAN. 


231 


him, for he can resist its power. And who can doubt 
that when he has raised others from the dead, and lately 
Lazarus of Bethany who had been long buried, he can 
protect himself from the effects of whatever might be 
inflicted upon him, or by virtues previously infused into 
his body, return to life after life had been taken away. 
Why he should permit himself to be slain, I indeed can- 
not tell ; unless it be by restoring life again to himself, 
still further to increase the confidence of others in his 
power, and that he may then, having so returned restore 
at length the kingdom to Israel.” 

“Ah, Judith, I perceive that thy faith stands indeed 
in a divine strength ; at least in a strength that is fur- 
nished not from any of the resources of human reason. 
I must confess, that for myself, though to the present 
moment I had believed with thee, the death of Jesus 
would convince me at length of my delusion. And I 
may safely promise, therefore, that, if being destroyed 
by the Priests or the Romans, he should overcome the 
power of death, and as thou thinkest, return to life, and 
then enter into his kingdom, I will myself believe in 
him, take him as the Christ, and wear the yoke of his 
allegiance.” 

“ I shall not doubt then,” said Judith, “ to see thee 
both a disciple and a subject.” 

It was with no little eagerness that, soon after my 
arrival, I sought the home of Ruth and her father — he 
now in possession again of his limbs and his sight. By 
the aid of Onias and of ancient friends in Beth-Harem 
he has become a husbandman on the banks of the J or- 
dan. There I found him, and now the mistress of a 


232 


JULI/K. 


well stored and comfortable dwelling, Ruth also, the 
happiest and the brightest spirit of these regions. They 
were truly glad to behold again one, who by a kind 
fortune, both as regards them, and himself, had first 
helped to lift them up out of their low estate. But 
every feeling toward me was lost in one of gratitude 
and love for Jesus, to w T hom they owe so much more. 
It is their delight to speak of him, and they would gladly 
have followed him had he encouraged them to do so. 
They now look forward with great expectations to the 
time, which they doubt not will come, when he shall 
stand revealed before the people. Their joy would be 
double, could they behold him seated where they think 
it his right to sit, and raised above any apprehension 
from those who are thirsting for his life. The approach- 
ing passover is expected by them with impatience, as 
they intend to go up to Jerusalem and trust then to see 
Jesus again, and are fully persuaded that at that time he 
will declare himself and appear what he really is. The 
rumors of his death, both as predicted by himself, or 
threatened by the Pharisees and Rulers, they w T ill not 
credit. As for the purpose on the part of the Rulers to 
destroy him by accusing him before Pilate, they say 
that it is but the same report that has been renewed 
from time to time, during the whole year that Jesus has 
taught ; and as for any prediction of such an event by 
himself, they judge it too little probable to deserve any 
credit. It is to them unlikely in proportion to their 
persuasion that Jesus is Christ, and in that they are im- 
movably fixed. More grateful, hoping, and believing 
followers Jesus has not in all the compass of Judea than 
Levi and Ruth, 


JULIAN. 


233 


******** 

The Ruler Shammai has been with us to-day. Upon 
inquiring for Zadok, he replied that he was already 
gone up to Jerusalem. 

“ Why so early 1” Judith inquired. 

“ Can you ask, daughter V y said Shammai. 

“I need not have asked, certainly,” replied Judith 
sighing ; “ the same cruel zeal, that has carried him so 
many times over Judea and Galilee, doubtless has now 
carried him to Jerusalem. May Jehovah confound all 
his counsels, and bring them to nought !” 

“ He will not rest,” said the Ruler, “ until he has ac- 
complished his aim. He can scarcely fail, what with 
his own craft, and the power of those with whom he is 
in league.” 

“ And his aim,” I said, “ is the accusation and destruc- 
tion of Jesus, I suppose.” 

“ Yes,” said Shammai, “ nothing less. John being dis- 
posed of, the adherents of Herod look upon Jesus as the 
only remaining obstacle in their way.” 

“ But,” said I, “ are not the people clearly with Jesus ? 
When, as before the Feast of Tabernacles I mingled 
much with them, I found them for the most part of his 
side ; and as I learn the numbers of his followers and 
friends have greatly increased of late, many even among 
the rich, and in high station, looking upon him with 
favor, and secretly favoring him, if not openly confessing 
him.” 

“ That is true,” said the Ruler ; “ the people worship 
him, and show their homage by crowding about him, 
hearing him preach, and looking on upon his miracles. 
But they are a loose, tumultuous, and changing body, 
20 * 


234 


JULIAN. 


without leaders and without power, notwithstanding 
their numbers. It will be easy for Zadok and a few like 
himself to manage them ; nay, by a little skill to make 
it appear that the people themselves require his destruc- 
tion. There is a body of men in Jerusalem, Priests, 
Eulers, Pharisees, and Scribes, to whom, when united 
for some common object, the destruction of a friendless, 
solitary individual, like Jesus, will be but as the crush- 
ing of an insect.” 

“Say not so, Shammai,” said Judith. “I will not 
believe that there are in all Jerusalem, bold and wicked 
as those white- washed Priests are, men to be found w r ho 
will dare to assail with ill intent a man like Jesus, so 
evidently even in their own eyes full of the very power 
of God. They will fear lest their hands fall blasted at 
the very touch of him, and the curse of the Almighty 
cleave to and pursue them.” 

“Judith, Judith,” cried Onias, “thou knowest not 
what thou sayest. If the Law is what we have taken it 
to be, even the Law of God, then doth Jesus w^ell de- 
serve to die ! for what precept is there he hath not per 
verted, or what holy day he hath not violated ? When, 
seeing what his powers are, we looked to behold him its 
friend and protector, w r hat doth he but bring it into con- 
tempt more and more, breaking its commands himself 
and teaching others so ? Be not so carried away, my 
daughter, by insane hopes as to despise the word of 
God — which so many years has been the boast and glory 
of his people, and raised them to a place above all the 
nations of the earth, whom God has been pleased to 
leave in their idolatry — and in its room thrust the new 
doctrines of this young man of yesterday ; for which, 


JULIAN. 


235 


if he offer the proof of his miracles, they must he the 
product of Devils, seeing that God cannot overthrow his 
own work.” 

Said Shammai, “Not only will he be charged with 
breaking the Law, and with blasphemy for making him- 
self the Son of God, but with treasonable designs against 
the Roman Power, in that he w'ould set up a new king- 
dom here in Judea.” 

“ That which they who accuse him charge him with, 
themselves would do,” cried Judith. 

“ So it must be said,” replied Shammai. 

“ Beware, my child, W'hat thou sayest,” said Omas. 
“ As sure as it shall be that Jesus is at the feast, so sure 
will it be that he will fall before the united power of 
Herod and the Pharisees; and who can say that with 
him his followers may not also fall ? If Pilate shall be 
made to believe that Jesus has aimed at dominion, it will 
be easy to turn his jealous mind against others also. 
And who more than Zadok hath knowledge of the faith 
of every soul in Israel 1” 

“ I fear not Zadok, my father,” replied J udith, “ nor 
the attempts of any leagued with him either in Jerusa- 
lem or elsewhere. What I am sure of is this, that the 
people are with Jesus from end to end of Israel, not 
doubting, that now at the Passover, or soon, their hopes 
will be fulfilled. A few in Jerusalem of Priests and 
Herodians may raise tumults, and by sudden violence, 
by injustice and deceit, attempt the life of Jesus and of 
his disciples, but never can they succeed. The people 
would not abandon in his extremity one whom they have 
seen and listened to so long as a Prophet of God.” 

“ My child,” said Shammai ; “ I fear thou deceivest 


336 


JULIAN. 


thyself. I too could wish that Jesus might escape the 
snares that are on every side set for him by the Saddu- 
cees, as well as -by Pharisees and IJerodians; but as I 
judge, he cannot, or will not. W ere he now to listen to the 
advice of many, even as I learn of some of his disciples 
themselves, who warn him against going up to Jerusa- 
lem — as they say only to die, and they with him — he 
might doubtless retreat into Persea, or upper Galilee or 
Arabia, where Aretas who already hath had communica- 
tion with him would give him protection, or into Parthia 
where Artabanus would serve him doubtless the same 
good turn. But, Judith, if he presses on to Jerusalem, 
think not that the people can save him, if it be that the 
Rulers should assail him ; for just as they shall perceive 
the schemes of his enemies succeeding against him, and 
that he falls more and more into their hands, will their 
faith in him grow faint and die away. His weakness at 
such a moment will prove him not to be he for whom 
they had taken him. ‘ How,’ they will say, ‘ could the 
wicked triumph against the Lord’s anointed ! If he is 
the Christ he will save himself! our help cannot be 
needed ; and if he save not himself, nor fall upon his 
enemies to their utter destruction, then may we know 
he is not the Christ, and that we have been deceived.’ 
They will therefore stand still, and await the issue.” 

“ The words of Shammai, Judith,” said Onias, “ can- 
not be gainsaid. That such will be the conduct of the 
people, there can be no doubt in any one who will 
mix with them and hear their language. They will not, 
nor in truth, could they rise in defence of one who hath 
ever taught the love of peace, to bear wrong rather than 
resist it — in no case to return evil for evil ; and all Israel 


JULIAN. 


237 


knows such to be the maxims this strange man hath 
preached. They will hope to see him blaze forth in the 
resistless power of one whom they believe God to be 
with, and so vindicate his claims to the throne of Israel. 
But that will be his work, not theirs.” 

“ Do you also think the same, Julian ?” said Judith 
turning to me. 

“ I can think no otherwise,” I answered. 

Judith sat for a moment buried in thought, when she 
lifted her head and said, “ I believe you are right ; it 
must be so. If Jesus fall before his enemies he is not 
our Deliverer ; if he triumph over them by the same 
power we have seen him use against disease and death 
itself, then in that shall we be furnished with the sign of 
his greatness, not to be mistaken, for which we have 
asked and waited so long. But no more do I doubt that 
such signs shall be given, than that his birth was an- 
nounced by angels, that the voice of God was heard at 
his baptism, that Lazarus and the Widow’s Son returned 
from death at his word, that the heavens are above me 
and the earth beneath me. God has been with him thus 
far — or else all is false, every thing a dream — and he will 
not forsake him now, or ever. He has defended him 
against the Nazarenes, and against Herod, and against 
the furious rabble who many a time have set upon him 
to stone him ; and when his need shall be greatest, and 
those who hate him shall be gathered together in one 
place, it will not be then for the first time, that his own 
power, or the power of God shall fail him. In some way, 
it may be in a way we now think not of, God v ill ap- 
pear and show him to be his Son — Redeemer and King. 
For myself, I shall go up to Jerusalem to this feast. 


233 


JULIAN. 


as one who goeth to a marriage with songs and 
dancing.” 

Said Shammai, “It may be so, who can tell? Time 
will show.” 

“ All is so strange concerning him,” I said, “ that it 
cannot be denied td be possible. That God hath been 
his strength hitherto, I find it difficult not to believe ; he 
hath surely enabled him to do wonderful things, and 
hath saved him out of threatening dangers. Who shall 
say there is no good ground of hope, that if darker 
dangers should encompass him in Jerusalem, a power of 
God shall be put forth for his deliverance greater than 
ever — nay, there is force in what Judith says, that it 
were strange indeed should it not be so. But, whatever 
power may be put forth, and whatever deliverance be 
wrought out, who can believe that such an one as Jesus 
shall be shown to be Messiah? It is not surely the pos- 
session of power alone that shall make Jesus, or any 
other, to be the Christ, but a certain kind and fitness of 
character, which Jesus hath not, and which seems not 
possible to belong to him.” 

“The young man says what is doubtless true and 
just,” said Onias, “ and so the event will show. Why 
do so many in Israel reject and deny Jesus as the Christ, 
but because they see not in him the lineaments of the 
Christ? Why are Chorazin and Bethsaida, and now 
Capernaum, unbelieving, yea and Nazareth also, but 
because in Jesus, notwithstanding the wonders of his 
hand, howsoever wrought, they see not the son of David ! 
Many— and who shall wholly deny them reason ? — give 
his works to the Prince of Devils ! To them do I now 
incline ; for, if they were of God, he who works them 


JULIAN. 


239 


a aid not, as Jesus doth, deceive the people or violate 
the law. But they of the Jews are to be counted by 
multitudes, who, though they see God in the miracles of 
Jesus, do not behold the Christ in him ; nor will they 
look upon it as a possible thing that he should ever be 
found in him. — Israel will not be at peace until Jesus 
shall be as John ! And what would happen most happily 
for the people would be, that, at the feast, Jesus should 
by the Council be accused, and suffer at the hands of 
Pilate the just punishment of his deeds.” 

J udith said no more, but Ruth coming in at that mo- 
ment, she arose and with her w ithdrew, grieved for the 
words of her father, into the garden. 

“Were all in Judea*” said Onias, “like Judith, the 
triumph of Jesus were a sure and an easy one. Her 
whole speech by day, and her dreams by night are of 
him ; and it is what she has heard of his teaching, even 
more than what she has seen of his works, that has so 
won her heart. Not a disciple that follows his steps has 
a faith like hers. And the faith of few has been so as- 
sailed as hers hath been, what with Zadok and Onias. 
Would it were placed on somewhat more worthy. He 
who has thus thrown Israel into confusion, trampled on 
the law, insulted the priesthood, and will die as the fool 
dieth, little deserves it. Verily, but for him, the true 
Messiah were long ere this sitting on the throne of Is- 
rael.” 

There no longer seems any doubt that the destruction 
of Jesus is resolved upon by the council, and that most 
of the chief men and rulers look on with approval, or 
openly aid them in the measures they pursue. The 


240 


JULIAN. 


works of Jesus of late, which have been so wonderful 
and astonishing, have filled them with new rage, and 
wholly blinded them to the truth, that, though J esus is 
not, or will not be the Christ, he may still be a prophet 
and messenger of God. As he disappoints them in one 
thing, they have hardened themselves against all his 
claims, ascribe his power to Satan, and are bent only on 
his ruin. He who has exposed them before the people, 
and laid bare their hollowness and hypocrisies, though 
he may do the works of Angels, they will not forgive, 
but will have their revenge. And the great thing which 
he hath so lately done at Bethany, the fame of which has 
filled the land and brought many to believe in him, has 
seemed but to inflame their rage to a higher pitch of 
madness. That they, rather than Jesus, may possibly 
be blasphemers and rebels against the authority of God, 
never enters their mind. But their persecutions of Jesus 
and his followers will surely serve but to endear them 
the more to the people on whom they have conferred so 
many benefits. W ere it not for the industry with which 
the Scribes and Rulers sow the seeds of doubt and dis- 
trust in the minds of the multitude, all would, methinks, 
believe in Jesus, through veneration of his virtues — 
through simple love of him as a gentle and beneficent 
friend. Each one with whom you may converse has 
something to tell of what he has done to himself or some 
kinsman or neighbor — of some instruction he has im 
parted, or some miracle of mercy he has wrought. They 
say that both for his goodness and his powers they doubt 
not that he partakes of the Spirit of God, even as the 
prophets of old — and these things also so far make for 
him that he is the Christ ; — they would rather, therefore. 


JULIAN. 


211 


that he were left alone untouched, unimpeded by the 
rulers, to finish his ministry, whatever it may be, and 
perhaps other signs, in process of days or weeks, and 
such as we look for, will be given. A general persuasion 
has gone abroad, that at the present Passover such signs 
will at length be given, and all their hopes fulfilled, in 
consequence of which multitudes far greater than usual 
are going up to the feast. But while the populace are 
thus justly disposed, they are at the same time weak, 
timid, and distrustful — they will do no more than stand 
by at rest, ready to receive Jesus if he shall commit 
himself to them, but not ready, nor able, as their temper 
now is, to do aught to deliver him from the hands of the 
Priests, if they should finally determine to assail him. 
According to the saying of Shammai, they will leave him 
to his own strength, trusting to behold in the manner in 
which he shall use it, tokens of his authority, and signs 
of his great office. 

********** 

The day had now arrived, when we were to set forth 
on our way to Jerusalem. We were bound to the dwell- 
ing of Heber, a kinsman of the mother of Judith stand- 
ing without the city just where the mount of Olives falls 
into the plain, and opposite the fount of Siloam. But 
seeing that at this feast the houses of those who inhabit 
the city, or its near neighborhood, are hardly able to hold 
the numbers of such as pour in from all parts of the 
land, we took with us by the providence of Onias, loaded 
upon a camel, the materials of a tent, which, if the ne- 
cessity arose, would serve as a protection against the 
heat of the day season, and by night furnish a cooler re- 
Vol. II.— 21 


242 


JULIAN. 


treat and more agreeable than the closer apartments of 
a dwelling. 

The heavens smiled upon us with a gentle air and a 
temperate heat, as we took our departure from the house 
of Onias. Two days must be devoted to the journey, 
as Judith and Ruth seated upon slow-paced mules made 
a part of our company, and our motion would therefore 
be slow; and for their more especial companion, and 
seated on the same wretched kind of beast, Shammai ; — 
Ziba, with others of the servants of Onias, conducting 
the camels heavy-loaded with our tent and. other effects. 
Onias, Levi, and myself, mounted upon fleeter animals, 
were able to make more rapid progress, so that often, 
while the Ruler and his two maidens crept lazily along, 
we turned aside into any path that appeared more in- 
viting, or visited spots not far from our course, noted in 
the history of our people. 

The roads were already beginning to fill with those 
who like ourselves were seeking Jerusalem — some from 
the regions of upper Galilee, from Deeapolis and the 
parts still farther east, and some even from Damascus 
and the banks of the Euphrates, who, that they may at 
the same time perform a religious duty, and visit kins- 
men or friends from whom they have separated for the 
advantages of a foreign residence, turn annually towards 
the great capital at this season of the year. With these 
distant travellers we often entered into conversation, 
giving and receiving intelligence concerning the condition 
of our people in all parts of the world. The great in- 
quiry on their part was of Jesus, and whether he would 
probably be at the feast, and what would happen if he 
should be there. Having only heard reports of him 


243 


JULIAN. 

until now, their only desire seemed to be to see him, 
and their only apprehension lest he should not be pres- 
ent. Family and friends and the observance of the fes- 
tival were forgotten in the thoughts, the hopes, and the 
fears that possessed them concerning this wonderful man. 
They seemed for the most part in a state of great un- 
certainty, not knowing what to think of him, nor hardly 
what to wish for or expect. Many indeed were violent 
enough, and desired only that so great a disturber of the 
public peace, and who was likely to bring down upon the 
whole people the wrath of Rome, thereby destroying the 
traffic of every sort now prosperously going on, might 
be summarily dealt with, and that too, ere the mischief 
grew to any more serious head. Others thought that 
any teaching and any teacher was to be welcomed even, 
that could redeem the Law of Moses from the practices 
and the perversions of the reigning sects, who made it, 
one set of them little better than a religion without God, 
or spirit, or a future ; and another, a cover, by means of 
a plenty of dead forms, of every wicked vice and lust. 
We might be grateful, they thought, toward any one who 
should bring back a true worship, no matter for the way 
he took to reach his end. But there were none from the 
remoter parts who deemed Jesus to be the Messiah, or 
thought that he any more than John, was fitted for that 
great office. I enjoyed in the highest degree these pass- 
ing glimpses of men of all forms of Jewish faith, and 
obtained much knowledge of the character of communi- 
ties of our people, of which before I had heard little, and 
knew hardly of their existence. 

fc'hammai, as I have said, was the more especial guar- 
dian of Ruth and Judith ; but it many times happened 


244 


JULIAN. 


that, tempting him forward into the company of Onias 
and Levi, and engaging him in some dispute, I then fell 
back and took upon myself the more agreeable duties 
of his office. So full of pleasures of the highest kind, 
my mother, were these two days, that were I to de- 
scribe them the hours must be treated as days and the 
moments as hours. 

Upon leaving the house of Onias, we crossed the Jor- 
lan at the Ox Ford, and keeping upon the west bank 
of the river took the road to Jericho. Avoiding the 
city, we struck directly for the barren wastes and rocky 
defiles which conduct the traveller to Jerusalem. 

You will readily believe it was with no common 
emotion that I found myself drawing near for the first 
time to so celebrated a place. The sentiments, which 
possessed me when I first beheld from the ocean the 
outlines of Lebanon, and first set my foot upon the soil 
of Caesarea, were again present. As I ascended the 
eastern side of the Mount of Olives, passing through 
Bethany, and knew that upon reaching its summit or 
coming to its descent the long expected prospect would 
break upon me, I could with difficulty restrain my pace 
to that of Judith’s mule, whose step seemed slower than 
ever before. But the hill was in due time surmounted, 
and soon as we had crossed a part of its summit, and 
passed from out the groves which clothe its western 
brow, the city, as it were in a moment of time, stood 
before us in its whole extent, no object whatsoever in- 
tervening to cut off the least portion of the prospect. 
Mount Moriah crowned with its Temple rising from the 
vast supporting walls that form a part of the hill on 
which it stands, Mount Sion with its shining palaces, 


JULIAN. 


245 


Acra and Bezetha, the heavy walls of the city girding it 
about, with their gate-ways and frequent towers — all 
lay before me a vision of greatness and beauty not 
surpassed by any other I had ever beheld. The vast 
assemblage of temple, palace, and dwelling, with the 
swarming populace and all the thousand signs of over- 
flowing and active life, struck the mind the more im- 
pressively too from standing, as it all did, in the midst 
of surrounding hills, whose bare and rugged tops and 
sides gave no token of aught but sterility and death. 
The eye beheld nothing upon them but flocks of sheep 
among the grey rocks, hardly to be distinguished from 
the rocks themselves, and so only adding one more to 
the other features of desolation. Another scene was, 
however, presented by fertile valleys at their feet 
thickly inhabited, their olive orchards, and their vine- 
yards creeping a little way up the barren hillsides. 
At the roots of the hill we were upon, and all along 
upon the banks of the Kedron, the white, pointed tents 
of strangers and travellers were visible, who had, like 
ourselves, come thus early to witness the events that 
should ensue, while the roads leading to the gates of the 
city, and crossing the plain in all directions, were filled 
with crowds of those who on horse and on foot or in 
vehicles of every various kind were arriving or depart- 
ing. Clouds of dust, converted by the rays of the set- 
ting sun to a gaudy purple hue, rose and hovered over 
the whole scene, through which glittered the shining 
points of polished harness, or the steel trappings of 
troops of Roman horse as they shot swiftly along. We 
stopped and gazed ere we descended the hill, that we 
might enjoy awhile the beauty and magnificence that 
21 * 


24 G 


JULIAN. 


were spread out below. To Judith and to others it was 
an old and familiar sight ; but they looked forth upon 
it, and paused while they looked, not less willingly 
than I. But Onias soon warned us of the waning day, 
and that all the remaining time might be needed to 
make our preparations for the night. We therefore at 
a quick rate descended the mount, and moved toward 
the dwelling of Heber, where we were welcomed with 
patriarchal hospitality by the venerable Israelite. 

That having occurred against which Onias had made 
good provision, our tents were soon set up on the 
grounds of Heber, where they overlooked both the city 
and the road descending from the Mount of Olives. 
******* 

The day succeeding this being the Sabbath, I resorted 
early to the city in company with Onias. I was filled 
with admiration as I drew nearer to the walls, and saw 
their immense height and thickness, and the strength of 
the gates with the defences of their vast towers, and 
considered that, owing to these things and to its natural 
position, it was a place absolutely impregnable. On 
this side, indeed, the city derives great advantage from 
the height of the ground on which it stands, in addition 
to that of the walls. But were there the walls alone, 
it seemed to me an impossible thing that they should 
either be surmounted by an enemy, or demolished by 
engines. Onias with a proud step, as he beheld my 
wonder, led me on to the gates, and through them into 
the city, pointing out as he went the buildings that were 
most remarkable, and the persons also whom we met, 
who were distinguished for their office or their power 
over the people. At length hastening along the streets, 


JULIAN. 


247 


now thronged with those who were pouring also in the 
same direction, we reached the great object of my desire, 
that which from my infancy I had ever wished to behold, 
the Temple. Truly did Herod show his magnificence in 
this vast and beautiful structure. If in other cities, as I 
have seen, he did great things and well worthy of admi- 
ration, here he did greater still ; so that, as I judge, all 
that together he had built in Caesarea would not com- 
pare with what, for grandeur, perfect workmanship, pro- 
portion, and variety of beauty, he accomplished in Jeru- 
salem in this single building. The marble of which it 
is built is beautiful and polished to the smoothness of 
crystal, yet are the separate pieces so large that it is 
surprising they should have been laid in their places 
safely and without injury at such heights. The innu- 
merable columns surrounding the courts of the Gentiles 
and the Women, and supporting the porticos which en- 
compass the building, create unfeigned astonishment in 
the beholder. 

All parts of it on the morning of this Sabbath I found 
swarming with the numbers of those who had come up, 
some to worship, some, like myself, strangers from re- 
mote parts to wonder and gaze, and some to converse 
and learn the news of those who recently arrived. The 
name of Jesus was heard from every one, as he passed 
talking with another, or as he addressed yourself. All 
were asking some questions concerning him of those 
who, they supposed, might know better than them- 
selves, or else answering those who had made inquiries, 
or else loudly and fiercely disputing concerning his 
character, authority, and 'works, and the designs of the 
Council. In the outer courts, vhere the meaner sort of 


248 


JULIAN. 


people assemble, no measures were kept among those who 
disputed, but words often came to blows, and peace was 
restored only by the interference of officers of the Temple. 

The question put by all to all was, “ Will he come up 
to the feast? who can tell?” As I stood upon the 
upper steps of those leading to the Treasury, I was ac- 
costed by one, who said, “Sir, can you tell me if Jesus 
will be at the feast?” I answered that I could not, but 
I trusted much to the general persuasion that he would 
come. Though none can say that he will from any cer- 
tain knowledge, yet all feel assured that he will, and 
there are none to say nay. Such general convictions 
commonly turn out well founded. 

“ What you say,” he replied, “ is true. Seeing you, 
however, but now in company with Onias of Beth- 
Harem, I looked for more certain intelligence at your 
hands, as J esus has of late been in those regions.” 

“ He has moved so fast,” I replied, “ from place to 
place, as if hasting to complete some work that he had 
to do in season, that it is likely none can tell where he 
has been, or where he now is, save those disciples who, 
as I hear, never leave him.” 

“ Some others know a little,” cried a voice at my 
side, “ as well as those of whom you speak. Two days 
ago he was in the Perasa, beyond Jordan — to be in the 
outskirts of Jericho on the Sabbath, where I doubt not 
he now is. And what is more, he will be in Jerusalem 
at the feast.” So saying he turned away, and passing 
from place to place, repeated his news to as many as 
would hear. “ This is news indeed,” said he who had 
first spoken. “ It will crowd the city more and more. 
What think you will happen ?” 


JULIAN. 


249 


I said that I was a stranger in Jerusalem, and would 
rather learn of him. 

“ I am in no man’s secrets,” he answered, “ and can 
tell you only what is confidently reported, and my own 
opinion.” 

“ And what will happen as you think, or as is com- 
monly believed ?” 

“What I think then is this, that Jesus will publicly, 
as it is well known he has done privately, declare him- 
self, and the people will rise in his favor. It is all 
abroad among them already, that he hath of late, not 
obscurely as heretofore, but plainly announced himself 
the Christ, which has greatly stirred them ; and that, 
together with their own belief founded on his miracles, 
will draw them all around him.” 

“ But,” I asked, “ has he not, at the same time that he 
has declared himself Christ, prophesied his death by the 
Council r 

“ That is said,” he answered, “ but is not believed. 
Besides, they say if he has uttered such a word, it can 
mean only that he shall die as Jesus the Nazarene, and 
then begin his reign and true life as the Christ. But so 
bent are they on having their way that, whether he will 
or not, they will hail him and have him King.” 

“ If he be not really such,” I said, “ it will bring down 
upon him a great danger, and possibly his ruin. They 
would be more cautious perhaps, if they considered 
that. They surely would not desire to do him an in- 
jury.” 

“ Certainly not ; but the difficulty would be to put a 
new opinion into them. It cannot be done ; what they 
want they will have and do. But while such is their 


250 


JULIAN. 


purpose, the Council are bent upon his death, and will 
compass it, if by force or fraud it can be done.” 

“ They will find it, I think, a thing impossible to do, 
in the present temper of the populace.” 

“I am also clear,” he replied, “that it would breed 
tumults not easy to be allayed. Yet they may accom- 
plish that by craft, and secretly, which they could not 
do openly and in the eye of day. To give their accusa- 
tions color, as if they sprung not so much from them- 
selves as from some of the followers of Jesus w r ho would 
fain do the State a service, it is rumored that one of 
them is found w'ho will inform against him, and accuse 
him before the Council.” 

“ That may be said,” I answered, “ but cannot be 
true ; for no one thing is affirmed so constantly as this, 
the veneration and affection with which Jesus is regarded 
by those who are about him ; so that one might as soon 
expect that Jesus should accuse himself as that one of 
his disciples should.” 

“ Trust not that,” rejoined my companion ; “ gold 
will bribe any virtue — at least any to be found in Jeru- 
salem. With that the Council shall buy, mark now the 
issue, the bosom friend of this Nazarene, and the judg- 
ment of Pilate !” 

“ I had thought better,” I said, “ of my countrymen, 
if not of Pilate.” 

“ It was because of your ignorance,” he rejoined ; and 
wishing me peace, turned away. 

What I had heard from this man, who seemed to 
know more, and with more certainty, than he was wil- 
ling to acknowledge, gave me pain. 1 forgot for a time 
whtu-e I was, and continued to pace the marble floors of 


JULIAN. 


251 


the Porticos, thinking only of the probable doom of this 
good man. I would willingly have moved in the cause 
of his deliverance, but I could see no quarter whence it 
could come. All the men in power, the Rulers of the 
Synagogues, the High Priests Annas and Caiaphas, the 
principal persons both among the Pharisees and Saddu- 
cees, were alike banded together against him, — and for 
him, only the fickle, helpless, unmanageable people, well 
disposed, hoping everything, but only half believing 
their own opinion concerning him. I could only say, 
God surely has been with him thus far; he must have 
some great purpose in thus sending him forth, and will 
not allow that it shall be defeated; safely and confi- 
dently then may we leave him in his hands. The dark- 
ness is too profound for us to penetrate. 

Turning away, I passed from the Temple into the 
streets, and entering a Synagogue, passed there the hour 
of worship. They who preached failed not to turn away 
the minds of the people, by every form of statement 
and argument, from Jesus and his doctrines. The great 
considerations, here in Jerusalem seemed to be, “that 
he w'as a disturber of the peace of the city and the na- 
tion, interrupted their business, caused uproar and con- 
fusion, gave umbrage to the Romans, brought the law 
and its ministers into contempt, and substituted dan- 
gerous novelties in the place of ancient truth ; — his 
miracles were shown to be the work of Devils, and the 
citizens were exhorted to oppose him, and all who clave 
to him.” Most assented to such things, but some ex- 
pressed their dissatisfaction aloud, and attempted to 
reply by showing the opinions of those who believed in 


252 


JULIAN. 


J esus, but the voices of too many were lifted up against 
them, and the service ended in noise and confusion. 

Well wearied at length of the city, I sought our tent 
at the foot of the mount, where in the more quiet pres- 
ence of Ruth, Judith, their parents, and the venerable 
Heber, I enjoyed a higher pleasure than before. It would 
have been higher still, but that so bitter is this benev- 
olent old Jew’s hostility against Jesus, that he will not 
permit his name to be mentioned in his presence ; or, 
if he converses of him at all, it is with a force of pas- 
sion that changes him for the time to a madman. We 
therefore abstained from all such topics until the even- 
ing, and the moon had risen, when we wandered forth 
to the Fountain of Siloam, where, seated among its 
rocks and shades, we discoursed of the only things that 
now engaged us, of Jesus, and of his doctrine, as it is 
alleged to be, and indulged freely our conjectures of the 
events of the approaching feast. 

As we sat there, and as we afterwards walked return- 
ing to the house of Heber, the sound of music came to 
us from neighboring houses in all directions, in whose 
apartments, or in the grounds about them, there were 
companies of persons who sang hymns or songs, or 
danced to the playing of various instruments. 

On the following day it became well known among 
the people, that Jesus had arrived at Bethany, and that 
he would with certainty be in Jerusalem at the feast. 
A great stir was evident among all, of every sect and 
rank, produced by this intelligence. Great numbers, 
immediately abandoning whatever might be the affairs 
in hand, left the city at once, and made for Bethany. 


JULIAN. 


253 


All day the crowds filled the way, coming or going. 
Learning from some who returned, that Jesus was in- 
deed there at the house of Lazarus, whom he had raised 
from the dead, but that on the morrow he would come 
to the city, I went not, though I restrained myself with 
difficulty, but waited till he should himself arrive. In 
the meanwhile I saw and conversed with many of the 
inhabitants of the city. I found them sure of one thing, 
that Jesus was now coming into the city as the Son of 
David, that he would proclaim himself, and assume his 
proper place ; they would go forth in great numbers to 
meet him, and receive him as it became them to do. 
They said that the Council were already alarmed at the 
signs everywhere so apparent, of devotion to Jesus, 
and knew not what measures to adopt to check the 
raging of the fever. It was evident, that they were now 
apprehensive, lest J esus would prove, what he had often 
been affirmed to be, and they should lose their power. 

I could urge nothing against their assertions, or their 
expectations, neither did I wish to do so. It all seemed 
now likely enough to happen as they were so confidently 
predicting. Who at least can do otherwise than yield 
before the strong persuasions of an immense multitude 1 
Whatever sentiment universally seizes and pervades 
them, it is difficult to believe will not be realized. Such 
consent, among so many, affects the mind, whether it 
will or not, with the force of truth. 

******* 

Another day has come and gone — Jesus has entered 
the city — I have seen him. 

Early in the morning it became apparent, that that 
would take place which had been looked for. For so 
Vol. II.— 22 


254 


J ULIAN. 


soon a)j the gates were open, the people began to pour 
forth, and throng the road leading by the House of 
Heber and over the Mount of Olives to Bethany. As 
the day advanced, the crowds increased of persons of all 
sorts and conditions, the old as well as the young, the 
rich and poor, women and little children. It seemed as 
if the whole city had come abroad to honor by its pres- 
ence and welcome, at least witness, the entrance of one 
who was either to reign over it as King, or else, it might 
be, fall a sacrifice to the rage of the present rulers. If 
one might judge by the countenance, but especially by 
the language which continually fell upon the ear, they 
who had thus come abroad and come in the spirit of 
friendship, and with the intention to show that if Jesus 
would meet them in their wishes, they on the other hand 
would acknowledge and receive him. As these crowds 
passed by our tent, loud and ardent in their talk, their 
lively gesticulations, as well as their voices, showing 
what hopes and passions were ruling within, it was in 
vain that I longer tried to resist the contagion, but leav- 
ing Judith and Ruth at the tent door, threw myself into 
the midst of the living mass, and was borne along with 
it up the Mount, and on toward Bethphage and Bethany. 
When we had reached the brow of the hill and were 
about passing it, the sound of voices as of a great num- 
ber caught our ears, and looking forward we beheld 
where, as the road suddenly turned, Jesus, surrounded 
by another multitude, came, on toward us. The air was 
now filled with the exulting cries of the approaching 
throng, which, caught up by us and those who were be- 
hind, rolled on an increasing shout even to the gates of 
the city, announcing to those who covered the walls and 


JULIAN. 


255 


the towers, that Jesus was drawing nigh. Never were 
a people, I believe, so carried away by what cannot be 
termed other than a sacred zeal. No language was too 
lofty and confident for them to utter, no acts of homage 
too expressive to render of their loyalty and devotion. 
The way was all along strewn with the leaves and 
branches of trees, which the eager populace tore from 
the groves that bordered the road ; branches of the 
Palm were waved over their heads and ever, as Jesus 
slowly moved on, often wholly obstructed by the strug- 
gling crowds, they who were immediately about him cast 
their garments in the way as before a king. Many, 
especially such as had at any time received benefits of 
healing at his hands, or whose friends had been restored 
by his power, cast themselves down prostrate on the 
ground, as the only sufficient sign they could offer of 
their reverence and gratitude. I cannot well describe 
my sensations as Jesus drew nigh, so that I could with 
distinctness observe his countenance and form, but they 
were such as I never before experienced in the presence 
of a mortal ; and it could not well be otherwise, as I 
doubted not that I looked upon one within whom were 
lodged the very power and wisdom of Jehovah. Awe 
and dread were therefore the feelings that would have 
alone prevailed, were it not that, however wonderfully 
I felt he was united to God, I saw that the language of 
his countenance was not that of an angel, nor of a God, 
but of a man, bound like myself, by the closest ties to 
every one of the multitudes who thronged him. Its 
expression was mild and pitiful ; but at the same time 
of one who, if full of regard and compassion for each 
and for all, also possessed the energies and the will to 


250 


JULIAtf. 


do for those whom he loved whatsoever should be need 
ful for their advantage or redemption. Strength and 
power were lodged in the lines and forms of the face, 
not any less than benevolence, giving ample assurance 
that there were inward forces of intellect and will, equal 
to every work that might be given him to do. His was 
therefore the aspect of a person who — and this was what 
I had gathered also from the observation of Onias — was 
to be loved and yet feared also. He seemed buried in 
thought for the most part as he rode along, save that 
now and then he briefly responded to the cries or the 
questions of those who pressed about him. But he 
spake not many words, or so that more than a few could 
hear, until we were come to the descent of the Mount 
of Olives, and the city suddenly came into view in all 
its glory — its walls, and towers, and house-tops covered 
with her thronging inhabitants. He then paused ; and 
beholding with both astonishment and pity, as it seemed, 
the scene before him, tears fell from his eyes ; and 
though I could not hear with distinctness all that he said, 
he appeared to express apprehensions of great evil and 
disaster as about to overtake Jerusalem and Judea, of 
enemies who should assail and oppress them, and lay 
them waste. All who heard were struck with amaze- 
ment, and one to another uttered in secret tones their 
astonishment. Thu3 while the innumerable multitude 
of those who encompassed him, and hailed him King and 
Deliverer, and could find no words of joy in which to 
give vent to the hopes that were within, he rejoiced not, 
but was evidently sad. The sight of the city with its 
populace all awaiting him and the sounds of their tumul- 
tuous cries as they were borne to us from afar, and the 


JULIAN. 


‘ 25 ? 


waving of their hands in token of welcome, seemed to 
awaken no feeling of triumph in his heart, but, instead, 
drew forth tears. I confess that I was also astonished ; 
and could only say, the whole of this man is mysterious 
and impenetrable — we know him not — we do not com- 
prehend what he is, nor what he has come to do. 

Thus we moved on — but hardly moving by reason of 
the constantly increasing throngs of people — to the sub- 
lime music of the acclamations, which without ceasing 
filled the air. As we came against the house of Heber, 
our humble tents I beheld swept away and trampled into 
the earth by the descending torrent, which swelling be- 
yond the limits of the road, spread far into the grounds 
on either side. No other end seemed to be regarded by 
those who composed these crowds, than, if possible, to 
keep within sight of the object of their worship or the 
hearing of his voice ; and but that a Divine Providence 
seemed to protect the people, great numbers would have 
perished, trodden into the earth by those who rushed 
madly on, forgetful in their struggles for precedence, of 
the feeble and the young who filled their way. . 

The day was already well declined when we reached 
the gates of the city, and when we had arrived at the 
Temple it had drawn on towards evening ; when, there- 
fore, after entering it Jesus had again, as once before, 
purged it of those who by their wicked practices violated 
its sanctity, and the people had received assurance that 
he would come again on the morrow, he returned to 
Bethany, where at the house of Lazarus he had taken up 
his abode. 

Defiled w r ith dust, and spent by the fatigue of what I had 
done and borne and witnessed, I returned gladly to the 
22* b 


258 


JULIAN. 


dwelling of Heber, where I found the repose I needed. 
Our demolished tents had already been set up again by 
the servants of the household, and our scattered effects 
gathered together in their places. 

After the hour of supper was over, we sat long at the 
tent door, speaking of the events of the day that had 
ended. Onias was gloomy and thoughtful. Although 
he would make no concessions of former opinions, it was 
evident that he had seen cause for hesitation, in the 
heartiness of the reception which the capital, as if pos- 
sessed of one mind, had given to the new prophet. No 
event could be strange or unlikely after that. Judith 
was full of confidence, and could with difficulty lay so 
much restraint on the expressions of it, as regard for her 
father taught her to impose. She was certain that now 
every hope would be speedily fulfilled. The people by 
a common impulse were eager to receive Jesus; and 
who could now doubt that he was the Saviour whom 
God had provided 1 ? Nothing was impossible to him, 
armed as he now was with the power of God and the 
consent of the people. Onias heard all she advanced 
with patience more than usual, and only said that there 
was still too much of what was dark and unintelligible 
in the character of Jesus, and uncertain in his purposes, 
for any undoubting reliance to be placed either in him, 
or in those who thronged him so: — seeing that they could 
hardly pretend to comprehend a person, who to the most 
learned and penetrating was a mystery. “Still new 
cause of astonishment,” continued Onias, “has he to-day 
offered to those most inclined towards him, by language 
which he used as he first came in sight of the city, on the 
Mount of Olives. It is variously reported, but most 


JIIMAN. 


259 


say that he lifted up a prophecy against Jerusalem, that 
lie declared her destruction as approaching, that the very 
walls of her defence should he overthrown and torn up 
from their foundation. What can we make of this? It 
surely seems not much like the language of the great 
Restorer — the Repairer of breaches ! Had such things 
come to the ears of that whole shouting multitude, it 
needs no gift of a divine discernment to know that their 
shouts would suddenly have fallen, and sounds of a dif- 
ferent kind, or silence, taken their place. Heard you 
aught of that, Julian?” 

I answered, that I had heard of it, and what was yet 
more I had myself heard most of the words he had 
spoken. They were as he had reported them, and in the 
minds of all who heard them had created such astonish- 
ment as he might suppose. “ But,” I added, “ I doubt 
not, it is all by this time forgotten, or remembered only 
as one of those dark sayings, many of which are reported 
even by the disciples of Jesus, to fall from him in his 
discourses.” 

“ By some,” replied Onias, “ the saying is not forgot- 
ten, but was treasured up as what it behoved the people 
to know, and hath since been carefully spread abroad. 
Wherever it has gone, I warrant you, it has done little 
to deepen the place of the prophet in the hearts of those 
who love the honor and safety of Jerusalem. That he 
should be the Christ we look for, who prophesies rum 
and disaster to Israel, few will be inclined to believe.” 

“ It will take more,” I said, “ than a single dark say- 
ing variously reported, and which may be interpreted 
many ways, to shake him from the seat he now holds. 
The people are with him. He needs at this moment, as 


200 


JULIAN. 


I judge, but to speak the word, and Antonia, the gates, 
the walls, and the Koman camp, nay, Jerusalem itself, 
are all his — and ere the news could reach Italy, Judea 
also, and Israel from Dan to Beef sheba !” 

Judith said nothing as I uttered these things, but her 
countenance revealed, quite as well as any words could 
have done, the emotions of joy and hope, and of grati- 
tude to me, that filled her. 

“ Thou art more of Judith’s mind than I had believed,” 
said Onias scornfully; “this momentary triumph of 
Jesus too much sways thee.” 

I said, I had intended to add what would have shown 
that, notwithstanding the astonishing spectacle of to-day, 
I was still, in regard to my opinion of Jesus, what I had 
been. Though he at this moment, as I could not but 
think, truly possessed all the power I had given to him, 
I did not believe he would use it in the way I had hinted, 
though I confessed I hardly knew what to think or be- 
lieve. It appeared to me that his whole character and 
aim were distinct from, or rather entirely opposed to, 
what belonged to the Christ. Jesus is a prophet only. 
********** 

The people of Jerusalem are, each day that they have 
listened to Jesus in the temple, becoming more and more 
devoted to him. Although the Council are as resolved 
as ever upon his destruction, and by their agents and 
spies, contrive to throw obstacles in his way, and do what 
they can to stir up the passions of the multitude against 
him, they meet with little success. The people gather 
around him, and listen to his instructions; and going 
aw|iy, they lose all the enmity they had entertained 
against him in the softening influences of his word. They 




JULIAN. 


261 


doubt not that he is indeed a great Pruphet of God ; and 
they still hope, and while he lives, will hope, that he will 
declare himself the Christ by the signs they look for. 
Their honest devotion keeps in awe the Rulers and 
Priests. 

********** 

Fuller and more exact accounts, my mother, than I 
nave now given of the discourses of Jesus during these 
few days, shall you ere long receive from the records of 
Judith, who hears no word — and she has heard all — that 
she writes not down. 

********** 

It was on the second day before the Sabbath that, 
leaving the Temple, where I had been listening to the 
discourses of Jesus I was accosted by a familiar voice, 
and turning I beheld the Greek Zeno. While listening 
to Jesus, I had observed the presence of Zadok and Sa- 
turninus, but I had not caught the countenance of the 
friendly Greek. I greeted him, as you will suppose, 
with pleasure. He said that he had been two days in 
Jerusalem, having come up with others, among whom 
were Philseus and Lysias, with the purpose to see the 
wonderful Man of Nazareth. I expressed my surprise 
that he had never sought him before, seeing that his de- 
sire of knowledge caused him usually to seek it at every 
source. At every source, he quickly rejoined, within 
the limits of Caesarea. He was strictly a citizen of that 
city, and rarely strayed from its limits ; and nothing 
less than a desire to see a man, who seemed rather to 
be a God descended upon earth than an ordinary mortal, 
would have brought him so far, except also the circum- 
stance that some Jews, proselytes from his people, ac- 


262 


JULIAN 


eompanied him, through whom he was in hopes to see 
and converse with Jesus. I asked him if he had suc- 
ceeded in obtaining access to him. He said that he 
had ; and that it was while he and his companions were 
still conversing with him, that the voice had been heard 
in the Temple which yesterday had filled all who were 
present with astonishment and dread, and startled the 
city itself. He needed no other evidence, he said, for 
himself, to be persuaded that Jesus was a messenger 
from Heaven. That voice was of no mortal tone — it 
was the voice of an angel, or of a God, bearing testi- 
mony to Jesus. They who hearing could resist it, 
would resist God himself, though he appeared in his 
own form. “ I am no Jew,” said Zeno, “ but I am a 
believer in the Supreme God, and in the power of the 
senses to discern one thing from another, and form a 
just judgment ; and as certain as I am that I, Zeno of 
Caesarea, was there in the Temple of Jerusalem, and in 
the presence of Jesus, so certain am I that the voice 
was the voice of a God, and not of a man ; and so I am 
sure thought, in their hearts, all who were there. My 
companions failed to compass the object for which they 
desired an interview with Jesus, — relating, as I under- 
stood, to the government in Judea they believed him 
to be about to establish, and the place or employment 
they might obtain for themselves under it — but they re- 
ceived convictions strong as my own, that he whom 
their conversation proved, as they judged, not to be the 
Messiah, was amply shown to be a messenger of God. 
That he was not the person they took him for, they 
thought to be certain from the language which he used, 
when he understood their aim, which astonished them 


JULIAN. 


263 


out of measure, for he told them that no such favors as 
they were thinking of could ever flow from him ; but 
his empire was of a very different kind ; it could be 
founded only on his death — as a seed sown in the ground 
could bear fruit only by in a manner first dying, so the 
good fruits which he as Christ came to bestow upon 
men, would flow only from his death ; he was to be ex- 
alted by first suffering and dying, and it must be so 
with all who came and attached themselves to his cause ; 
they would be the ministers of great benefit to Israel 
and mankind, but it would be not by reigning as princes 
in Israel, but by doing and also suffering in the same 
manner as he had done; and much more to the same 
purpose which they seemed to comprehend very little. 
Of one thing, however, they left him fully assured, that 
he was not the peculiar kind of person or Prophet whom 
they and the nation expect — that he had no pretensions 
to that character, but was at the same time, beyond a 
doubt, a great and wonderful person highly favored of 
God, and if he should be permitted by the Priests to 
fulfil his mission would confer great benefits on Israel. 
Their fear was, however, from all they could learn, that 
the Council was bent on his destruction, and would suc- 
ceed sooner or later in their aim. “ Such was our inter- 
view, ’’continued Zeno, “with Jesus. I am truly glad to 
have seen and heard him ; for no other is like him, 
either in the form, the countenance, the voice, or the 
divine wisdom that flows from him as he speaks. I felt 
compassion for him, Julian, notwithstanding his wonder- 
ful power ; for he seemed as one who in the beginning 
of life is oppressed with presentiments of evil which it 
was impossible for him to escape.” 


264 


J ULIAN. 


When Zeno had thus spoken, and we were still walk- 
ing in the streets of the city, I desired him to accompany 
me to the dwelling of Heber, which he readily consented 
to do. There we found all our friends ; and with them 
Saturninus, who escapes, even for a moment, with diffi- 
culty from the duties which now press upon him. Be 
cause Heber, who is of the Sadducees, with his household 
celebrates the Passover on this evening, they were not 
with us, as at this hour of the day they liave commonly 
been. The preparations of Onias are making for the 
evening of the morrow. 

When supper was ended we sat again at the tent 
door, where we conversed together not long, for a spirit 
of heaviness was upon us which we did not succeed in 
shaking off, and so caused us early to separate. But 
when Judith had spoken of the triumph which Jesus 
had thus obtained over the Council through the univer- 
sal homage of the people, and of the prospect which thus 
was held out of his continuing to teach the people even 
though he should never fill any other office, Saturninus 
said that for his part he could not but be under appre- 
hensions for the safety of Jesus even yet. He had ob- 
served great activity among those whom he knew to be 
emissaries of the Priests, and had noted that Zadok es- 
pecially. as he had met and spoken with him, wore upon 
his countenance an expression that signified a malignant 
satisfaction with some purpose or plan, whatever it 
might be, that was employing his thoughts He had 
also received from Pilate orders to be vigilant beyond 
the usual measure, as if tumult was looked for. Yet 
his suspicions might be unreasonable and have grown 


J C L1AN. 


265 


out of his concern for the welfare of an innocent and 
righteous man. 

Onias thought it would by no means be wonderful, 
if a new exasperation existed in the minds of many who 
had heard him to-day, seeing what the prophecies wei e 
which he had uttered. 

“ But,” said I, “ if he prophesied destruction to the 
Temple and to Jerusalem, he did not spare himself, 
since he spoke plainly of his own death by violence.” 

“Yet,” said Judith, “of his rising from the dead 
also !” 

“ Yes,” said Onias, “ he boasts that being dead he will 
in three days come back again to life. But how plain, 
if he possesses any such power as could accomplish 
that, he would first exert it to save himself from the 
pain of dying ! Who would die had he power to de- 
liver himself? And at the last motnent, to elude or 
escape from the hands of the Council or Pilate, would 
display his divine strength even as coming again from 
the dead. All this shows real weakness, and impos- 
ture.” 

“ Unless,” said Judith, “ it should be true that certain 
ends could be accomplished by his death and immediate 
resurrection, which could not be otherwise, which is 
conceivable though we may not be able to say what 
they are. — But of these things it surely is not needful 
to dispute, for notwithstanding all you have said, Satur- 
ninus, I cannot believe in danger to one who stands so 
firmly in the present reverence, and just expectations 
of the people. The Council would never dare to injure 
him — for they would fear the people. I will apprehend, 
1 can apprehend nothing. During the few more days 
Vol. II.— 23 


260 


JULIAN. 


we remain here, shall I look to gather new wisdom from 
his lips, and long do I hope and believe that Israel will 
rejoice in the light of his truth and life.” 

We agreed in dismissing our fears. We also deter 
mined that on the morrow we would be together in the 
temple at the time Jesus should arrive from Bethany, 
which is ever about the third hour. 

Our friends then took their departure for the city, 
while for ourselves we were soon wrapt in sleep. 

But while we slept in security and peace — injustice 
and violence, treachery and revenge were awake, and 
under cover of night doing their deeds darker than 
night. 

His enemies have triumphed, and Jesus hangs cru- 
cified upon mount Calvary ! 

Thus it fell out. During the night, while friends 
were away, the city asleep, none suspecting the designs 
of the Council, Jesus was seized, carried before the 
Council, tried and condemned, the sentence confirmed 
by Pilate, and then before the third hour of the day, 
and before the knowledge of what had been done could 
spread abroad, was hurried without the walls and cru- 
cified. Grief and indignation are in every heart ; for, 
save the Priesthood and the Council, there were but 
few, w'ho, though they believed not in Jesus, did not 
reverence his virtues and hope that he might show him- 
self more and greater than his miracles had yet proved 
him. But though angry and disappointed, they raise no 
tumult, seeing that although, as they judged but yester- 


JULIAS. 


‘207 


day, there was hope in Jesus, and they knew not what 
he might not be, — felt that he might be anything, every- 
thing they wished, — the event has resolved all their 
doubts, as it has finally and forever extinguished all 
their hopes. They grieve that being innocent he should 
suffer death to feed the. hatred of the Rulers, but they 
acquiesce without further complaint, as they now know 
that their trust in him was delusive — that he himself 
was deceived concerning his own character and office, 
and that they therefore had been placing their reliance 
on one in whom there was no help. 

Judith is overwhelmed with grief. — She can hardly 
believe that he, who but yesterday was borne into the 
city on the arms of a whole people, should so soon have 
suffered a cruel and shameful death, crowds of that very 
people looking on, and uttering approving cries. I as- 
sured her that they who witnessed the trial — who even 
knew of it — were very few, and they for the most part 
partisans brought together by the Rulers. When he 
was carried forth indeed to the Judgment Hall of Pilate, 
and was sent by him, out of a feigned respect, to Herod, 
great numbers of the populace were gathered together ; 
but it was not wonderful, as they beheld him wholly in 
the power of his enemies, submitting to his fate as if he 
no longer possessed any power of resistance or escape, 
that they should abandon him, as one who by such help- 
lessness was shown not to be the person they had taken 
him for; especially seeing that his own disciples lost 
their faith in him, and left him to his fate ; and that one 
of them bribed by the Council — that thereby the rage 
of the people might be diverted in part at least from 
themselves — accused him before them, and betrayed to 


268 


JULIAN. 


their officers the place of his retreat on the Mount of 
Olives. All were now alike persuaded — his own disci- 
ples not less than others — that they had been strangely 
deceived. 

No sooner had Judith learned this mournful termina- 
tion of her hopes, than she resolved immediately to 
return to Beth-Harem, nor did Onias, seeing her unhap- 
piness, seek to detain her ; but committing her, accom- 
panied by Ruth who shared her sorrow, to my guidance, 
set us forward with the requisite attendants on our way, 
so that on this same morning we crossed Mount Olivet, 
and journeyed rapidly homewards. 

As we wound along among the valleys of the Jor- 
dan—* ****** 


Here, my kinsmen of Rome, do these letters to 
Naomi abruptly terminate. 

Of the early days passed in Judea they give an exact 
and careful account ; it was with this I promised to 
supply you. Of the fortunes and the fate of Onias 
when, upon the crucifixion of Jesus and at the instiga- 
tion of Herod — now relieved of his most formidable foe 
and rival, whose death lie celebratad on the day of his 


JULIAN. 


2«9 


crucifixion by a banquet given to his friends — he re- 
sumed the enterprises that had been interrupted since 
the first appearing of John, of my own fortunes during 
the same period, of the part I took in the defence of the 
city when beleaguered and finally destroyed by the 
Romans, and the scenes I then witnessed, of my inter 
course with the early Christians, and the strange inter- 
pretation they came to put upon the character, and doc- 
trine of Jesus, and their controversies with the Jews 
who, like myself, continued to deny him, I will also 
write, if concerning these things you should show the 
same desire to be informed. 

It is not necessary that I should say aught of the won- 
derful events that took place in Jerusalem, surpassing 
all preceding wonders, on that same day that we de- 
parted from it, since the writings of the followers of 
Jesus in which they are truly recorded, have already 
become common. All that I shall add is this, that those 
wonders were witnessed by persons from all parts of 
the world, and received the same ready assent as the 
miracles of Jesus. Satuminus the Centurion — and than 
he no man could have looked on with a calmer mind — 
doubted not that Jesus was a prophet of God, declared 
more especially to be so by the signs of anger or of 
compassion which nature gave, when they whom he 
came to serve and bless devoted him to the death of the 
cross. His rising from the dead also, in agreement 
with his prediction, a prediction which when it was 
uttered few understood or afterwards remembered, con- 
firmed, not only by the testimony of his own disciples 
who saw him and conversed with him a long time after 
he came to life, but also by the soldiers who were set 
23 * 


270 


JULIAN. 


as a watch over the sepulchre, he considered as estab- 
lishing the same thing. Doubtless they sufficiently 
proved him to be a messenger and prophet of God, at 
the same time that they failed to prove him the Messiah 
who had been foretold, for whom Israel had waited so 
long, and still waits. 


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